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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23428438">You Know Me Too Well</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MordorIsCalling/pseuds/MordorIsCalling'>MordorIsCalling</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>NBT Modern Royalty AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bilbo and Thorin are proud uncles, Bilbo and Thorin are such morons in this you would Not Believe, Communication Issues, Internet, M/M, Modern Royalty, Political Alliances, Politics, Primula is Bilbo's sister because reasons, Secret Identity, Secret Relationship, Social Media, The rating is for language</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:28:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,761</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23428438</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MordorIsCalling/pseuds/MordorIsCalling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sealing the alliance between Erebor and the Shire with a royal marriage seemed to be a marvellous idea. Crown Prince Thorin Oakenshield and Crown Prince Bilbo Baggins, however, had different views on the matter. They both had a tiny <em>little</em> secret.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Minor or Background Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>NBT Modern Royalty AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1912720</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>261</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>383</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue - "Fait accompli"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Is this April Fools? Or am I really posting stuff? </p><p>Well, I am indeed posting stuff! But it is not new stuff! xD This fic was previously titled "If all is not well, it is not the end". I came up with the idea for this story in February last year and wrote Chapter 1 quickly. Soon after that, I didn't have time to focus on that story and in the end, decided to delete it, as there was no indication that I would ever have time to continue it. But well. Things change. Quarantine is here, I have a little bit of time to write now. </p><p>The funniest thing is that, when I was deleting that work, I thought to myself, "Do I have to save up Chapter 1? Umm, no, I definitely have it on my computer!"</p><p>Guess what. I didn't, in fact, have it saved on my computer. I had to write Chapter 1 again, from memory, after more than a year of writing it for the first time. xD And now this chapter is much shorter than I remembered it to be, so it became a prologue. We gotta make do, right?</p><p>So uh... enjoy?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><hr/><p>“Do I really have no say in this?”</p><p>Queen Belladonna laid her hand on his forearm. “I’m afraid not, darling,” she answered gently.</p><p>He pursed his lips and didn’t respond. A tense silence fell over the room. The unbearably cheerful singing of birds from outside was the only sound that could be heard in the King’s study, where they were now sitting. It was a beautiful spring afternoon. Bilbo always loved days like this. On days like this, he would go to Buckland and take little Frodo for long walks in the gardens. They would pretend to be looking for elves and fairies, sometimes even climb trees. (But that was their secret).</p><p>He loved days like this. Until today.</p><p>“You deserve all the happiness in the world, my boy,” King Bungo said with a heavy sigh, “and I’m sorry that it is you who has to fulfil this duty. We need this alliance very much, though, and you know this.”</p><p>Bilbo nodded mutely as he fought down the lump forming in his throat. “But... me and Prince Thorin?” he asked, “isn’t this somehow... improper?”</p><p>“We’re aware of your preferences,” Bungo replied and chuckled at the blush appearing on Bilbo’s face.</p><p>“It’s actually for the better,” Belladonna added, “a marriage that could produce heirs is not desirable in this case. Don’t worry about propriety at all, Bilbo. We’ve been told that Ereborians are open-minded in such matters and our people will have to understand.”</p><p>Bilbo, again, stayed silent for some time, trying to take his emotions under the remaining shreds of his control. Finally, when he was sure his voice would not waver when speaking, he said, "I want to go to Erebor, then. I refuse to marry that man without meeting him."</p><p>"Of course," Bungo answered, "we will arrange this as soon as possible. I wanted you to do go there anyway, someone from the Shire should be physically present during the talks."</p><p>Bilbo nodded curtly, aware of that fact far too well. He got up from his chair and said, “If that’s all, I would like not to be interrupted until supper, please.” With that, he left the room briskly.</p><p>His parents might’ve shouted something after him. He didn’t hear. He might’ve passed some people on his way without acknowledging them. He didn’t see. He didn’t care that he was rude.</p><p>He was <em>furious</em>.</p><p>As he finally entered his rooms, he closed the door with a bang so loud that it was surely heard in the whole Bag End Manor. After that, Bilbo <em>screamed</em>. Then damaged some furniture. A bit.</p><p>It took him quite some time to calm down. When that finally happened, he sat on the floor amidst all the mess he had made and sent a quick text to his sister.</p><p>
  <em>Can we talk asap? It’s important. </em>
</p><p>A minute or two later, there was an incoming call from Princess Primula Baggins, Duchess of Buckland.</p><p>“What’s wrong, darling?” she asked in that soothing voice of hers.</p><p>So Bilbo told her. He told her everything, raising his voice in anger. He perhaps also sobbed a bit. All the negative emotions took hold of him again but couldn’t help it. This was too sudden and too serious, and everyone knew about his absolute <em>hatred</em> for surprises.</p><p>(Especially for surprises like <em>this one</em>. Just when he was going to-</p><p>Well, no matter now).</p><p>When he let it all out, Prim didn’t say anything for some time. He could hear little Fordo’s singing in the background, which made him smile slightly.   </p><p>Finally, his sister sighed. “Oh, Bilbo, I’m so sorry,” she said quietly, “but you know this could happen. We’ve been prepared for this kind of thing our whole lives. You know that my marriage to Drogo wasn’t exactly voluntary, but we made it work.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he mumbled.</p><p>“Besides, I think you got lucky,” she teased, “Prince Thorin is really handsome.”</p><p>Bilbo snorted. “I don’t give a damn. Honestly, I don’t give a damn about anything right now!”</p><p>“Why do you act so despaired anyway?” Prim snapped, losing her patience at last, “it’s not like you to behave this way all of the sudden!”</p><p>“Well, maybe that’s because I’m in love with someone!”</p><p>“<em>What?!</em>”</p><p>***</p><p>The laptop surely mocked him. He read the words on the screen again, then again, but they wouldn't disappear from their Facebook chat.</p><p>
  <em>19 APR AT 03:44 PM<br/>Hey, sorry for not texting you much today, but something happened. We have to break this off. Please don’t contact me from now on. I’m so sorry.</em>
</p><p>Mahal, his life was such a <em>not-funny</em> joke at this moment.</p><p>Just after he had found out about this whole bloody arrangement, the only person that cared about him for him, not his title or wealth, had left him.</p><p>Thorin knew it was foolish to have feelings for someone he had never physically met or even actually seen. Yet, with Will, he really couldn’t help it. They really got on so well it was staggering. Thorin was almost sure he was in love with the guy at this point. He was actually about to confess it to Will in a day or two.</p><p>So, of course, everything would go to hell precisely now.</p><p>Maybe it all wouldn’t have been so bad, had he been told sooner. But <em>no</em>, of course not, his father had had to present him with the fait accompli. He had to marry some <em>Shire princeling</em> and there was no getting out of this.</p><p>He flung something in the direction of the wall. It might’ve been his phone.</p><p>He didn’t care.</p><p>He needed to find Dwalin. They needed to have a rough sparring session, after which they needed to get drunk. Really drunk. So that Thorin would forget.</p><p>If only just for a minute.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is gonna be sooooo fun! </p><p>The next chapter is almost ready, but I will post it next week. I'll try to do weekly updates and we shall see if I'd be able to keep up with that schedule.</p><p>(I suppose some of you are wondering if Bilbo is a hobbit in this one. He isn't, everyone is human. It's a fully modern setting, but some geography is taken from the Middle Earth. I know it's a weird blend, but yeah. That's how I imagine things).</p><p>The title for this work comes from a song by Nothing But Thieves, here's the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=itIg_NtAbnk<br/>The chorus goes well with this story. Plus this band makes some really awesome music, they're worth checking out!</p><p>Anyway, please stay safe, my loves! &lt;3 &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 1 - "The catch"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>At that moment Bilbo Baggins identified as “not ready”.</p><p>He was tired, hungry, and definitely <em>not ready</em>.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh goodness, you guys, I'm so happy that so many of you are excited about this! &lt;3 Hope you enjoy this one :3</p><p>Important info! I added a little to the previous chapter since posting it, I remembered that it was in Ch1 before I deleted and it's important: Bilbo says that he refuses to marry Thorin without meeting him before marriage, so he wants to go Erebor. Bungo agrees, saying that it will be arranged asap, since someone from the Shire should go to Erebor anyway.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>20 APR AT 12:48 AM<br/>Don't do this to me.  <br/>I won't believe that you'd do this and actually mean it. <br/>I just know you don't want this just as I do. <br/>Talk to me. <br/>Mahal, just tell me why. <br/>I think I deserve some explanation after all we’ve shared, don’t you think?<br/>Why would you leave so suddenly? <br/>Answer me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>01:03 AM<br/>I will wait. Just answer me.<br/><br/>01:22 AM<br/>Please don’t leave. </em>
</p><p>Bilbo took a sharp breath. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest, trying to will the tears away.</p><p>I was true that he didn’t want to leave Tom.</p><p>The problem was that he couldn't do this anymore, not with that marriage business happening. He would rather ignore the fact that there was a person that could actually make him happy somewhere out there. He would rather forget it and try to convince himself that his spouse soon-to-be was bearable enough.</p><p>Bilbo bit his lip and looked down at his phone again.</p><p>The crown prince of the Shire was a weak being. He had been re-reading their messages at every opportunity. He kept recalling all their banter, all their discussions and confessions, all the flirt. He hadn't responded to Tom's texts from yesterday night only because he had thought he would be strong enough to resist.</p><p>In the end, he wasn't. </p><p>He started typing his answer.  </p><p>
  <em>Of course you're right. You know me too well. I'm doing this because that's what I have to do. There is someone else. It's complicated and I'm so sorry. Believe me when I say that I’m so, so sorry. </em>
</p><p>He sent the message and let out a shaky sigh. </p><p>"Are you all right, Your Highness?"</p><p>He looked at Balin, who sat next to him on the backseat behind the driver. The elderly man was watching him with good-natured worry.</p><p>Bilbo cleared his throat. “Yes, it’s just... I’m a little nervous, I guess.”</p><p>“Understandable.” Balin tilted his head with a sympathetic smile.</p><p>“Don’t you worry, Your Highness,” Bofur chimed in from behind the wheel, “the royals are all fine, and they do want to make you feel welcome.”</p><p>“How do you know that?” Bilbo asked.</p><p>“I’m a friend of theirs, kind of. Me and my two brothers are employed by them, and it’s actually a pleasure. They’re okay. Dwalin here can vouch for that as well.”</p><p>Dwalin, who sat at the front beside the driver, only said, “Yeah”. The man was the epitome of the silent intimidating type, which was rather fitting for a royal bodyguard, Bilbo supposed.</p><p>Bilbo hummed. “What can you tell me about Prince Thorin, then?”</p><p>Bofur glanced into the rearview mirror, looking at Bilbo with a merry glint in his eyes. “I don’t want to spoil the fun for you, Your Highness,” he answered.  </p><p>“Oh, please, Master Bofur, have some mercy,” Bilbo joked, “I do <em>not</em> like surprises, I want to know what to expect.”</p><p>“All right, all right,” Bofur laughed, “well... he isn’t really a talkative sort, but he’s a good leader. He has this thing in him that makes people loyal to him. And he loves the young princes to pieces, he’s a family man.”   </p><p>“That doesn’t sound that bad at all, does it?” Bilbo said, blinking in surprise. “I wonder where’s the catch.”</p><p>“There’s none, hopefully,” Balin chimed in with a chuckle, “you’ll find out by yourself quite soon anyway.”</p><p>“Aye, it’s not a long drive from here,” Bofur confirmed, “an hour at most.”</p><p>“<em>An</em> <em>hour?</em>” Bilbo repeated incredulously. “But the Mountain is right <em>there</em>.”</p><p>And it was, looming before them like a massive giant, its snowy peak gleaming beautifully in all the shades of afternoon sunshine.</p><p>Bofur barked a laugh. “It’s actually much farther than you think, Your Highness. We must also go a bit around because we’ll be entering the Mountain from the North Gate, that one’s used by the royals only.”</p><p>Bilbo almost groaned in frustration. He was getting really tired, but most importantly – <em>hungry</em>.</p><p>“They’ll be waiting there for you to greet you,” Balin added, “the royals want this to be a strictly private affair as for now, so we won’t follow you to the Gate.”</p><p>Bilbo nodded, trying not to let both his panic and his relief show on his face. The introduction with no outsider would mean practically nothing that could temper their behaviour for the sake of appearances. Yet, at least no press would be involved, which was a <em>huge</em> plus.</p><p>“There’s also one new information that you should know about,” Balin went on, “the young princes and their father won’t be able to come to greet you. I’m very sorry but Fíli and Kíli are not feeling well today, Duke Víli must stay with them and we cannot say if he would be able to see you today.”</p><p>To distract himself from thinking about what a blessing it was that he didn’t have to face the whole family at once, Bilbo asked, “Is it something serious?”</p><p>“A lung infection, from what I’ve been told,” Balin replied. </p><p>“Oh no.” Bilbo grimaced sympathetically, knowing how bad this could get with little kids. He almost wished to forget that one time Frodo suffered from pneumonia. “Let’s hope they’ll get well soon.”</p><p>Balin smiled slightly but gave no answer, returning to reading something on his tablet, while Bilbo started wondering just how many things the Shire and Erebor had already agreed on that he had no idea about.</p><p>In truth, Bilbo wasn’t well-informed at all. He had been sent the schedule for the first days of his stay, but he didn’t know about anything beyond that. He and his parents weren’t exactly on speaking terms now, as Bilbo couldn’t find it in himself to forgive them just yet. He had not exchanged a word with them the whole day after they had told him about the deal. The next morning he had graced them with nothing more than a cold “goodbye” when he had embarked the private jet sent from the Blue Mountains with Balin already on board.</p><p>What had followed was a four-hour long, mostly undisturbed flight. Apart from the slight turbulence over the Misty Mountains, the journey had been uneventful. They had landed on the Esgaroth Airport safely, where Bofur and Dwalin had been waiting to drive the two of them to the Lonely Mountain together with two more cars with security.</p><p>Bilbo was glad to find Balin and Bofur a good company, and he didn’t mind Dwalin as well. All of them had their hair and beards styled in that unique Ereborian fashion, which Bilbo had always considered rather strange (not to mention that hat on Bofur’s head!), and their straightforwardness took a bit of getting used to, but they were agreeable overall. Bofur’s cheerfulness especially was a true blessing – it eased up Bilbo’s nerves considerably.</p><p>The reasons for his anxiousness were quite obvious, yet there was one thing that even Prim did not know.</p><p>Tom was an Ereborian.</p><p>Bilbo didn’t know what to do.</p><p>The fact that Bilbo was now coming to Erebor seemed like a great opportunity to finally meet in person. However wonderful idea that could seem to be, though, there still remained a teeny, <em>tiny</em> problem. </p><p>Tom had absolutely no idea who Bilbo was. He didn’t even know Bilbo’s actual name.</p><p>The crown prince of the Shire was a coward. He hadn’t had the courage to tell the truth. Not when they had started getting on so well. Way too well at some point.</p><p>On the other hand, Bilbo would never forgive himself for missing the chance to meet him.</p><p>So he really did not know what to do.</p><p>That was why he did what was suitable for a Baggins – sit back and wait things out. His companions didn’t speak. Balin was still busy reading, while Bofur focused on driving and Dwalin well... stayed silent, so Bilbo decided to admire the view outside of the tinted glass of the car window.  </p><p>The Mountain itself made quite a sight, but the hilly land around it was no less beautiful, with its small pine forests scattered around wild meadows, the River Running winding gracefully in between the clusters of trees. It was rather different from the landscape of the Shire and Bilbo couldn’t tear his eyes away. Of course, he had seen bits and pieces of Erebor shown somewhere on TV or on the Internet, but he couldn’t say he had been particularity interested in that far-away country; it had no common interest with the Shire whatsoever. Until now, at least.</p><p>Well, he had to know <em>something</em>, obviously. The powerful kingdom of Erebor now encompassed the Lonely Mountain, the Iron Hills and the land between those two dwellings, as well as the newly established Blue Mountains Colony. It was ruled by the House of Durin with Thráin II on the throne.</p><p>All the information that he had had never conveyed the beauty of nature around here.</p><p>From what Bilbo knew, however, he was going to be even more impressed soon – Ereborians lived mainly <em>inside</em> their mountains. Their dwellings were famous for being technological miracles, although no outsider was let inside without a very good reason. For the wide public, it was only known that the mountain homes of Ereborians were unconquerable fortresses that run on their own renewable sources of power, with top-notch technology used everywhere and by everyone. After all, Ereborians were a nation of ingenious engineers – all proud, wealthy and armed to the teeth. There was practically only one thing, apart from trade of course, that made Erebor dependent on the outside world.<br/><br/>Food.<br/><br/>Their underground food production wasn’t efficient to feed the numerous population, and they were reported to have been experiencing some major issues with on-ground farming and food importation. How much they didn’t allow the rest of the world to know, Bilbo could only guess, yet he had no doubt that the Orcs had attempted a blow as nasty as poisoning crops and stealing food cargo.</p><p>Sweet Yavanna only knew, if Erebor lowered itself to ask anyone for help, it had to be <em>bad</em>. Hence, enter Shire, often called “the food basket” of Middle Earth.<br/><br/>Bilbo realised far too well that the Shire people weren’t taken exactly seriously. Not once had he seen the Internet mock their insularity or sneer at their lack of highly-developed urbanization. All the jokes were put aside only when someone went hungry, which was apparently Erebor’s situation at the moment.</p><p>Bilbo sighed. If only the Shire had needed the Erebor less than Erebor needed the Shire.</p><p>It wasn’t the case, but he would rather not think about it now.</p><p>As if by the Valar’s grace, his phone pinged, distracting him from his moping.</p><p>It was a text from Prim.</p><p>
  <em>Someone interesting liked your last selfie on Instagram, I recommend checking that out ;) </em>
</p><p>Bilbo shook his head fondly. Prim always had time for all the social media nuances. She was very immersed in the life of the Internet and knew a lot about interesting online gossip, so if she recommended looking something up, it had to be good.</p><p>As Bilbo logged on his Instagram profile and checked the recent likes, he could confirm that it was indeed <em>good</em>.</p><p>He had a like from the official Instagram of Thorin Durin.</p><p>Not that he cared much.<br/><br/>Bilbo wasn’t really into social media. He had started his Instagram profile only because Prim had convinced him to do so. He did not share much anyway. He sometimes posted some photos of the Shire or of his workplace. Many people referred to his pictures as “aesthetically pleasing”, praising his ability to take photos with artistic quality. He was fine with keeping his profile that way, so he rarely uploaded any selfies. He had posted one recently – he had taken it together with Frodo when they had been sitting on the floor and playing with Lego bricks. It had ended up getting an insane number of likes.<br/><br/>Including one from Thorin Durin.<br/><br/>Not that he cared. It was just interesting.<br/><br/>Bilbo could bet good money that Prince Thorin had had no idea what Bilbo looked like and had had to google him.<br/><br/>He sent a quick text to Prim that said exactly that, and, of course, her response came quickly.</p><p><em>I bet he thinks you’re cute ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)</em><br/><br/>Bilbo snorted so loudly that both Bofur and Balin looked at him, their eyebrows raised in question. Bilbo just shook his head. He busied himself with replying to Prim, trying to hide the blush of embarrassment that crept up his cheeks.<br/><br/><em>The like is because of Frodo and you know it. Half of Middle Earth is in love with him already. He’s going to have the other half smitten with him by the end of his teens.</em></p><p>A wide smile stretched his lips when Prim responded to his message with lots of colourful heart emojis. His good mood didn’t last long, though.</p><p>“Your Highness, we’ll arrive shortly,” Balin said, killing any remains of Bilbo’s high spirits.</p><p>Bilbo nodded mutely. Way too quickly, they found themselves very close to what Bilbo guessed to be the North Gate. Bofur stopped the car and announced, “We’re here!”  <br/><br/>As if those words did not sound final enough, the <em>huge</em> North Gate made Bilbo feel small in a very threatening way, as if it was only waiting to swallow him whole.</p><p>He realised there would be no return the moment he walked in.<br/><br/>At that moment Bilbo Baggins identified as “not ready”.<br/><br/>He was tired, hungry, and definitely <em>not ready</em>.</p><p>“Good luck,” Bofur said cheerfully, “not that you’ll need it, of course.”</p><p>Bilbo failed to smile. “Thank you. I hope we’ll see each other again soon”</p><p>The driver beamed at him but said nothing more.</p><p>A minute or two later, after exchanging goodbyes with Balin and Dwalin, they drove away. The three cars disappeared and Bilbo was left alone, facing the huge Gate and the four figures not so far away. He took a deep breath and started walking towards the members of the royal family of Erebor.</p><p>In the near future, it would become his family, too.</p><p>He still couldn’t comprehend how come his life had got this ridiculous. <em>In three days</em>.</p><p>He shook his head, mentally shaking himself. He had to focus. He wanted to make a good impression of them, after all. For the Shire’s sake.</p><p>King Thráin started coming towards Bilbo and soon, the two of them were standing face to face a short distance away from the rest.</p><p>Son of Thrór held himself just like a powerful ruler should. Him being a king would be obvious without any kind of regalia; his stance demanded respect and almost screamed authority. Bilbo would’ve bowed even if he hadn’t had to. <br/><br/>“Your Majesty,” he said as took a bow.<br/><br/>Thráin inclined his head in acknowledgement with an air of sternness, but then a sudden change came over him. His eyes lit up merrily, and a warm smile graced his lips. He outstretched his arms and exclaimed, “welcome to our kingdom, Prince Bilbo Baggins!” He put both of his heavy hands on Bilbo’s shoulders and gave them a firm squeeze.<br/><br/>Bilbo barely managed not to let his mouth hang open inelegantly. “It – it’s my pleasure to be here,” he stuttered.<br/><br/>Thráin chuckled. “I’m so glad to hear it! Now, let me introduce you to everyone!” He beckoned at his wife, who came forth and took her husband’s arm.<br/><br/>Bilbo had to admit there was something absolutely stunning about the Queen. Her porcelain-white skin, pale blond hair and piercing green eyes gave her a kind of cold, dignified beauty of a lily. She, too, seemed stern, and to be worshipped only from afar.</p><p>“Her Majesty Queen Frís,” Thráin announced proudly.<br/><br/>Frís smiled at Bilbo, and suddenly she didn’t appear so cold anymore. “We’re excited to welcome you to our home, Your Highness,” she said in a surprisingly sweet voice.<br/><br/>“Ah, I’m very honoured, Your Majesty,” Bilbo replied after he bowed to the Queen, and she tilted her head with another smile.</p><p>“Let us introduce you to our daughter,” Thráin said then, and the Princess approached them. “Her Highness Princess Dís.”<br/><br/>Dís did not look like her mother at all. She wasn’t as lovely as Frís, having more of her father’s features. Still, she was beautiful in a different way, with her long dark brown hair and tan skin. She radiated confidence and charisma, and the lively sparkle in her blue eyes spoke volumes of her strong spirit. Bilbo already knew she was a force to be reckoned with.<br/><br/>Bilbo bowed and she returned the gesture with a graceful curtsy.<br/><br/>“Prince Bilbo, I’m so happy to meet you!” Dís said, “we couldn’t wait to have you here... especially my brother was rather impatient,” she added, her voice hitting the teasing note.<br/><br/>Bilbo cleared his throat. “Well then, why don’t you introduce me to him, please?”</p><p>“Oh, of course!” She turned around and looked at her brother. Prince Thorin nodded and came up to them, standing in front of Bilbo.</p><p>“His Highness Crown Prince Thorin,” Dís announced.</p><p>Everyone watched them with bated breath. Thorin glared down at Bilbo with his arms crossed before his chest, and Bilbo stared right back at him.</p><p>He was prepared for Prince Thorin to be tall, dark and handsome. His appearance didn’t make that much of an impression on Bilbo, even though he did find Thorin’s muscular physique and stern features a bit... menacing. He straightened his back and was about to say something, <em>anything</em>, but Thorin broke the silence first.</p><p>"So you're really Bilbo Baggins?" </p><p>At least Bilbo Baggins had an excuse to gape.</p><p>He should have prepared better. Well, of course he had watched some videos with Thorin speaking, but he <em>really</em> should have considered that a voice like <em>that</em> would be way more impressive in person. Then he would have been ready for the effect that Thorin’s dazzling, silky-rough baritone had on him. But no, of course not, it hadn’t crossed Bilbo's mind, so now he was standing there, gaping, wondering how ridiculous it was that a person could have such a lovely voice and say such a ridiculous thing in it. <br/><br/>“Excuse me?" Bilbo asked. </p><p>"You look more like a grocer than a prince." </p><p>It would be fair to say that those words had touched a raw nerve. Bilbo was well aware that his height and looks weren’t particularly impressive, and his alleged lack of royal bearing that some people liked to point out had started being one of his insecurities long ago.</p><p>And so, Bilbo, like everyone else, was stunned into silence. He narrowed his eyes at Thorin, trying not to back down under his cocky, challenging stare.</p><p>"W-well,” Bilbo answered, “and you behave more like an asshole than the heir to the throne. Has anyone ever taught you manners? Or have they ceased their efforts?" </p><p>Thorin scowled at him while the rest gasped.</p><p>"He's <em>perfect</em>," Bilbo heard Dís whisper.</p><p>He turned to her and asked, “pardon?”</p><p>She just flashed him a charming grin.</p><p>Thráin cleared his throat. “Let’s come inside, shall we?”</p><p>Bilbo pursed his lips in a grimace that rather failed to be a smile. “Yes, please.”</p><p>The King took the Queen’s hand and led the group inside the Mountain. When they entered, Bilbo took a look back at the enormous door that was closing slowly. His heart clenched as he saw the last rays of sunshine being cut off.</p><p>The door shut with a loud thud.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hahah, I made myself snicker when writing this, oh god, Thorin can be such a disaster XDD</p><p>Btw, we stan Primula Baggins in this household. She totally uses le lenny faces.</p><p>(Expect an update between next Monday and Wednesday. See you then and stay at home, loves!)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 2 - "A right fool"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There were many things he wanted to do instead of being right in the middle of this mess, for example finding out if Will was really going to leave him on “seen” or not.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for all your comments and kudos! You guys give me <em>life</em>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The dinner that followed after Bilbo’s arrival was a disaster. Thorin could honestly say it was one of the most, if not the most, awkward affairs he had ever experienced in the thirty eight years of life. The only sounds that filled the extremely tense silence were the clattering of cutlery and some short, failed attempts at conversation, mostly between his mother or sister and Bilbo. Thráin was too busy trying to kill his heir with a furious stare.</p><p>Thorin did not hold his father’s gaze. Instead, he did what he thought everyone would most appreciate. Shut his mouth and eat, to be precise. Nothing good came out of him opening his mouth anyway. Thorin had always had the tendency to speak before thinking and he was immensely frustrated that it <em>kept happening. </em>He was far from a sulky teenager and he shouldn’t have said <em>anything like that</em> to their guest. Yet, he had been so angry about all of this, still was, and then Bilbo had turned up, all meaningless smiles and empty perfect manners, so the words had just slipped out.</p><p>It really shouldn’t keep happening, and his father did <em>not</em> have to remind him about that. Thorin was annoyed at himself enough as he was. He kept his eyes on his plate and wished he could be anywhere but here, especially that Bilbo was sitting right across him. There were many things he wanted to do instead of being right in the middle of this mess, for example finding out if Will was really going to leave him on “seen” or not. Thorin had been checking up on their chat often since he had sent those messages.</p><p>He might have been very, very drunk back then. He might have been very, very tempted to stay drunk ever since.</p><p>He reached for his glass, wishing it had been filled with wine instead of water.</p><p>Thorin looked over the meal that graced the table morosely. There wasn’t enough food to call it a feast, which the dinner should be as a way of welcoming their guest. Of course, Bombur had truly done his best – the food was delicious, if simpler from what someone would normally expect a royal family to eat.   </p><p>Those weren’t normal times, though. Thorin gripped the fork he was holding tighter at the very thought but made himself calm down. Now wasn’t the time to get angry about. Still, for the few following minutes, he had to make a conscious effort to stay away from that train of thought. It wasn’t easy, as the ongoing meal wasn’t something that encouraged paying attention.</p><p>Thank Mahal for Víli entering the dining room, which distracted them all. Dís sent him a worried glance, but Víli gave her a slight reassuring nod. Introduction between Víli and Bilbo followed, and Thorin could see that they took an instant liking to each other and he wasn’t surprised at all. Víli got along well with most people. He was a decent man, honest and steadfast, a calm to the storm that Dís could be. Not many could live up to the expectations that came with marrying the Ereborian princess but Víli had been managing that well overall.  </p><p>As everyone sat back down, Dís asked Víli, “Should I go to them?”</p><p>“No need,” he answered, “Bifur’s watching over them now. Besides, they’re sleeping.”</p><p>Dís nodded, her posture relaxing. From then on, the conversation flowed with more ease. Víli updated them on how Fíli and Kíli were doing and then asked Bilbo some general questions about his journey and the rooms in Erebor. Bilbo’s answers were perfectly polite and slightly less tense than before.     </p><p>Soon after that, the dinner finished in an atmosphere which was only mildly awkward. They said their goodbyes and parted ways, knowing that they would see each other tomorrow morning, when the first talks were to begin. They would have to start drafting the agreement and begin planning the wedding immediately. The sheer amount of workload that this would involve almost made Thorin feel tired already.</p><p>But that was tomorrow.</p><p>There was still today. Thorin retreated to his rooms with relief, grateful that he could spend the rest of the day in much-needed solitude. Immediately after walking in, he went to his bedroom, where his phone lay on the bedside table. He took it and noticed a notification for a text message from Dwalin, so he unlocked the phone and checked it.</p><p>
  <em>Watch out, he’s cute like in the photos. </em>
</p><p>Thorin snorted. In truth, he was rather... underwhelmed. Sure, Bilbo was quite attractive, could show off a charming smile and perfect manners, but was there anything more to him? He still seemed somehow... ordinary, had a slight stutter when caught off-guard and his hands had a strange nervous twitch. To him, Bilbo appeared way more fit to be a university teacher rather than a crown prince, and he was actually both.</p><p>Thorin knew that because he had googled him. Briefly.</p><p>He had found out that Bilbo taught about literary translation and did some literature translation himself, which was enough to know. It wasn’t anything very useful.</p><p>Bilbo did have an adorable nephew, though.</p><p>Thorin shook himself out of his thoughts and sent his answer.</p><p>
  <em>Yeah. But I’m not impressed. </em>
</p><p>Dwalin’s response came only a minute later, just when Thorin was about to turn on the wifi in his phone.</p><p>
  <em>Swear to Mahal you never are. At least don’t be an asshole to him. </em>
</p><p>Thorin rolled his eyes and decided that no reply would be an answer enough for Dwalin. He then turned on the wifi and sure thing, some messenger notifications popped up for his Facebook account. The fake one. Because <em>of course</em> he had one.</p><p>His fake internet name was Thomas Oakenshield and, although he didn’t have all that much time to spend on the Internet, he did like to share some of his favourite music and comment some posts. Commenting was, in fact, how he had “met” Will. Thorin aka Thomas had expressed his opinion under one post about Moria and Will had disagreed with him on some points, having the audacity to cite Sindarin records. And so, they had got into an internet fight that had... escalated.  </p><p>He would have never thought that four months after that fight, they would be messaging each other every day, often flirting and exchanging teasing almost-selfies that showed just a bit of collar bone or bicep, or playfully arguing just to insist that one was right and the other was not in order to make each other laugh.</p><p>Yet, here he was. A right fool, thinking that it all had meant anything at all. Apparently it didn’t, at least to Will.</p><p>He sighed and opened messenger, checking if Will decided to respond or ignore him for good. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed that Will had actually replied. He opened their chat hastily and forgot to breathe as he re-read Will’s message three times, not believing his eyes.</p><p><em>21 APR AT 04:28 PM<br/></em> <em>Of course you're right. You know me too well. I'm doing this because that's what I have to do. There is someone else. It's complicated and I'm so sorry. Believe me when I say that I’m so, so sorry. </em></p><p>In hindsight, Thorin was now glad that he had left his phone in his room in the hour before Bilbo had arrived, when the last preparations were being made. If he had been able to read that message, it would've distracted him way too much. It shouldn't, he should be much more level-headed than that, but how was he supposed to stay rational when <em>there was someone else?</em></p><p>Thorin clenched his jaw and reminded himself to think before “speaking”, but truly, what was there to think about? He sent his replies immediately.</p><p>
  <em>Is this all that you can say?<br/>I can’t believe you.<br/>Have you been cheating on someone and only playing with me all long?<br/>Explain. </em>
</p><p>He stopped himself from writing more. With a growl, he turned off the wifi and locked his phone, throwing it on the bed. He already had enough of the bloody internet for now.</p><p>He didn’t particularly enjoy being proven right in the fact that he was a fool indeed. </p><p>Thorin laid on his bed and stared up at the constellations of stars that looked down at him from the electronic panels on his ceiling. Gazing at “his stars” usually brought him some comfort, but now their twinkling seemed more cold than merry, as if they were laughing at him cruelly.</p><p>Maybe he deserved it. He had already royally messed up the relation with his soon-to-be husband, who mattered much more than Will. Their marriage was the only way of ensuring that both Shire and Erebor would honour the obligations brought by the alliance, since, in both countries, marriage was regarded as a sacred union and divorces were rare.</p><p>When Bilbo and Thorin would marry, committing the union to upholding the alliance, their countries wouldn’t be able to back out of it easily. Mahal only knew that Erebor needed that. Their food stock was only up to six months short of running empty.</p><p>Thrice-damned bloody <em>Orcs</em>.</p><p>At least the Shire needed them as well, now that the Dúnedain had withdrawn from the protection agreement, but it was debatable who needed who more.</p><p>Thorin simply <em>couldn’t</em> <em>wait</em> for tomorrow.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thorin being a dismissive asshole, episode 2. He will have to change his mind about Bilbo eventually, but it will take time, like in canon.<br/>I love how Bilbo and Thorin fall into the same pattern <em>every time</em>. First, there is a horrible first impression and a conflict that with time turns into begrudged acknowledgement and respect, then friendship and then... well, y'know ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)   EVEN "THOMAS" AND "WILL" DID THAT XD</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 3 - "A lovely start"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I strongly believe that you two are a good match,” Gandalf went on as Bilbo and Thorin stared at each other, “And this marriage would profit your kingdoms greatly.”</p><p>Thorin somehow doubted the first part.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello, loves! &lt;3 &lt;3 Hope everyone's all right! :D I'm sorry that this chapter comes so late but real life has come to bite me in the ass recently and I wasn't exactly in a mental state to write anything but depressing poetry . I may not be able to keep up with weekly updates due to lots of uni work and other stuff (and also my stupid brain bugging me that I should write two new Geraskier fics at once). One update per two weeks seems more realistic. Still, don't worry, I'm not gonna abandon this story :D</p><p>Enjoy! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bilbo brushed his hand through his curls, scratching his head in frustration. The alarm in his phone was merciless, waking him up from a restless short sleep. He hadn’t slept long enough because he had face timed with Prim (and also Drogo and Frodo at some points) well into the night. They might have spoken about a certain crown prince in rather unflattering terms, which certainly did Bilbo some good. Still, after finishing talking to Prim, he couldn’t fall asleep for a long time. He had kept thinking about too many things, including the fact that he had seen that Tom had messaged him after that awful dinner had been over. Bilbo hadn’t opened the messages because had been sure he wouldn’t have been able to deal with that back then, even though he had been curious. Was curious still.</p><p>Now, in his tired state, he was unable to fight the curiosity any longer. He opened messenger (for his fake Facebook account because well... how was he supposed to fully enjoy social media if not as William Underhill?). He checked Tom’s reply and regretted it instantly.</p><p>Being accused of cheating... what a lovely way to start this cursed day.</p><p>With a frustrated growl, Bilbo wished he could disappear. Or not had been born into this family. Being a simple university teacher would have satisfied him just fine. He wouldn’t have had to deal with all of <em>this</em>.</p><p>He pursed his lips, thinking of a reply which wouldn’t be <em>too</em> rude.</p><p>
  <em>Oh thank you for thinking me to be such a scum. Believe whatever you want, I’ve been single the whole time. Now I’m not. Being honest to that person is precisely why we need to break this off... whatever we are. </em>
</p><p>He sent the message, not feeling like explaining <em>anything</em> to Tom now, and immediately went about preparing himself for the day. Thank goodness he didn’t have to eat breakfast with the royal family. As he had been relieved to find out yesterday, they didn’t really do breakfasts together. They had offered to make an exception for him, of course, but Bilbo had happily declined. His rooms had a lovely kitchen, after all, and the fridge was full of fresh products. He would gladly cook for himself.</p><p>After he bathed and dressed, he made himself a delicious omelette. When eating, he wondered who would come for him to walk him to the conference room. He would never get anywhere without someone to show him the way. Erebor reminded him of a bloody maze with its numerous corridors (or streets?).</p><p>A short time later, the doorbell rang. It was fifteen minutes before the scheduled start of the meeting so Bilbo fully expected Balin or someone from the staff to stand at the door.</p><p>It was Dís, though, and Bilbo gaped a bit. She looked stunning in a navy blue suit and a yellow shirt, paired with black high heels. Bilbo began to suspect that stunning bordering on intimidating was Dís’s usual state. Thank goodness he had brought his best clothes so he didn’t feel underdressed now.</p><p>“Princess Dís!” Bilbo greeted her, finally managing to speak, “good morning.”</p><p>“Good morning, Prince Bilbo,” she answered in a sing-song voice, “I thought I could walk you to the conference room.”</p><p>“Oh, it’s just Bilbo,” he said with a smile, “and thank you, that’s very kind of you.”</p><p>“Call me Dís, then,” she replied, “and think nothing of it.”</p><p>Bilbo nodded, fetched his things quickly and followed her. Dís silently led him out to a wider corridor and as they walked, Bilbo couldn’t contain his awe yet again.</p><p>Erebor was truly impressive inside. The walls of the “outside” halls were actually bare stone, into which there were carved many beautiful geometrical patterns covered in gold and silver. The stone was cool to the touch, but it wasn’t as cold as Bilbo had initially expected it to be (as cold as stone actually should be, anyhow). Bilbo knew that because he had checked. Once. He couldn’t help it. The Mountain’s stone had beautiful deep green and bluish colour. The walls just begged to be touched.</p><p>Bilbo wouldn’t risk doing that in the “inside” rooms, though, as the walls there were all covered with electrical panels which displayed a background of choice (one of them included a real-time view of what was going on outside the Mountain). The amount of light they emitted imitated the lighting outside Erebor (and thus, the part of a day), although it could be adjusted to one’s preferences. Bilbo had had a lot of fun yesterday when discovering all of this and then choosing backgrounds and lightning for himself in each room.</p><p>Overall, Erebor made an almost mesmerising blend of art and technology. The kingdom seemed like a clockwork, in which every little  piece just seemed to fit and work and be beautiful all at once, and Bilbo wondered if he actually had a place in this elaborate mechanism.</p><p>He tried to chase off the feeling of unease that started arising within him, with little success. The fact that Dís stayed quiet didn’t help matters. She appeared not to mind the silence, but Bilbo certainly did. Thank Yavanna there was always the subject of children, which adults usually liked to talk about.</p><p>“How are your sons?” Bilbo asked.</p><p>She glanced at him with surprise, but a pleased little smile curled her lips. “A bit better, thank you,” she answered, “though they are rather annoyed and whiny because they have to stay in bed.”</p><p>“Ah, little kids are like that, aren’t they?” Bilbo said, “My nephew and heir, Frodo... He’s six, and I swear, he has so much energy it never ceases to amaze me.”</p><p>Dís chuckled. “My boys are the same. They’re quite a handful, really.”</p><p>She didn’t seem willing to continue this conversation, yet Bilbo would rather keep talking, so he asked, “How old are they?”</p><p>“Fíli’s seven,” she answered courtly, yet the same small smile was still on her lips, “Kíli’s four.”</p><p>Bilbo grimaced. “Oh... no.”</p><p>At this, Dís actually laughed out loud, throwing her head back, the melodious sound of her laughter filling the hall. “Indeed!” she exclaimed with a grin, but didn’t say anything more. When Bilbo was about to ask about something, <em>whatever,</em> again, she stopped in front of some tall oak door and turned to face him. “We’re here,” she announced, then added, “But before we come in, Bilbo... about what my <em>dear</em> brother said yesterday –”</p><p>“Dís,” Bilbo cut in, “forgive me, but I will accept an apology from no one but him. Let’s not berate him by thinking he’s incapable of saying sorry, shall we?”</p><p>Dís sighed. “I just... I really want you two to get along.”</p><p>Bilbo inclined his head. “I suppose it’s in everyone’s best interest.”</p><p>She measured him with a cautious, calculating look. Bilbo gestured for her to enter the room and she did so without another word. Bilbo took a deep breath and followed her in.</p><p>***</p><p>Bilbo looked exactly as slept-deprived as Thorin felt.</p><p>It took only a few glances to notice and Thorin could sympathise. He had also had a rather sleepless night, which always made a great start for the day. </p><p>At least he wasn’t the only one who was simply <em>thrilled</em> to be here. All his family was slightly tense, just like Balin and Ori. Councilman Asam and Councilwoman Tamerí appeared rather cautious, while Bungo and Belladonna Baggins, who were on conference call together with their two advisors, seemed worried.</p><p>An awkward silence fell over the room as they all looked between each other. There was still one empty seat left and, for some reason, Thorin didn’t know who was it for, so he asked, “Who are we waiting for?”</p><p>“Ah, actually –” Balin began but was cut off by the door opening.</p><p>A tall old man in a grey suit walked in.</p><p>“Gandalf!” both Thorin and Bilbo exclaimed.</p><p>“Hello!” Gandalf greeted them with a smile, then bowed to Thrain and Fris and also to Belladonna and Bungo.</p><p>“How come you’re <em>always</em> late, Gandalf?” Belladonna asked.</p><p>The man chuckled as he took his seat. “I’m never late, Your Majesty. I’m always exactly on time. It just may not be <em>your</em> time!”</p><p>Thorin fought down the urge to roll his eyes. Gandalf never changed, always speaking strange words and half-riddles. He was a member of the White Council, a neutral political body which advised and negotiated between countries. As neutral as they could be, anyway. Thorin suspected Gandalf was here to “overlook” the negotiations. Still, he asked, “What are you doing here, Gandalf?”</p><p>Gandalf cleared his throat. “Well, seeing that the idea of sealing this alliance with this marriage is my idea –”</p><p>“What?! <em>Why</em>?<em>!</em>” Bilbo exclaimed incredulously, glaring daggers into the man.</p><p>Thorin did the same because, sweet Mahal, why would Gandalf even <em>think</em> of something like that in the first place? And why would he pressure both countries into this?</p><p>“Your Highness,” Gandalf addressed Bilbo calmly, “a lot of people are unaware of the fact that they share the deepest, most private experiences... until they share them. You cannot form a connection without trying to spend time together and actually talking. I think that you’ll be surprised by many things when you get to know each other better.”</p><p>Thorin looked at Bilbo and Bilbo looked at him, both eyeing each other with resentment. It was hard for Thorin to imagine he had <em>anything</em> in common with that guy.</p><p>“I strongly believe that you two are a good match,” Gandalf went on as Bilbo and Thorin stared at each other, “And this marriage would profit your kingdoms greatly.”</p><p>Thorin somehow doubted the first part.</p><p>“Now,” Gandalf said briskly, “shall we begin?”</p><p>And so they began. The negotiations went on the whole day. In between, there was a coffee and a lunchtime break, but apart from that, they worked incessantly until evening, reaching the agreement that the marriage would be a personal union and their countries would not become one, but they would be united, both sides obliged to work in each other’s best interest. They would announce the alliance on a press conference in the following week and would work out the soonest possible date for the wedding (or weddings, the Shire argued).</p><p>When the time for dinner came, they were all exhausted and fed up with each other, so they parted ways with great relief. They would see each other tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and so it would go on for three months at least.</p><p>Thorin absolutely loved his life at the moment.</p><p>***</p><p>When dinner was finally over and they all could retire to do whatever they wanted (or had to), Bilbo wasted no time for small talk with anyone, which might have been rather rude, but he didn’t care all that much.</p><p>He had to call his parents.</p><p>As soon as the door to his rooms closed, he called his mother but she wasn’t answering the phone and he had to call his father. He entered King Bungo’s number and stared at it for a while. With a sigh, and chose “call”. His father did not pick up immediately, but in the end, Bilbo heard his voice on the other side.</p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>Bilbo swallowed hard. His father sounded so uncertain yet hopeful that Bilbo felt awful about himself.  “Hey dad,” he said quietly.</p><p>“Hi, son,” Bungo answered, still unsure, “how are you doing?”</p><p>“I’m...” Bilbo trailed off. Saying that he was fine would be a blatant lie. “I’m calling to apologize to you and mom. I... I didn’t know the deal was half forced on you by Gandalf and the rest of the White Council.”</p><p>“Oh.” Bungo cleared his throat. “Well, I wouldn’t really say “forced”, but Gandalf was certainly very insistent. Bella said we could trust him, so we did, although begrudgingly, especially on my part. Thráin and Frís weren’t particularly happy about this idea either when we talked it over before informing you and Prince Thorin.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”</p><p>“My dear boy, have you forgotten how angry you were with us? Would you have listened at all?”</p><p>Bilbo sighed, already knowing the answer. “I’m sorry, dad.”</p><p>“It’s all right, Bilbo,” Bungo said gently, “I’m really sorry about this whole thing, too. I just wish you could find happiness with Prince Thorin somehow, or at least be content. The very thought that I agreed on something that could make you unhappy for the rest of your life... I-it’s –” his voice cracked.</p><p>“Dad,” Bilbo spoke up, his own voice wavering, “I’ll... I’ll manage.”</p><p>He heard his father let out a shaky breath. “Of course you will, my boy.” He sniffed. “That’s what Bagginses do, after all.”</p><p>Bilbo chuckled sadly.</p><p>“Anyway,” Bungo went on, switching to his usual brisk voice, “how are you finding Erebor so far? Are the Durins treating you well? Tell me everything.”</p><p>Bilbo told him almost everything, omitting only his disastrous first conversation with Thorin and how his spouse soon-to-be generally seemed to be an asshole. They talked for some time, and at the end, Bilbo felt a knot in his chest untighten. He finished the conversation in high spirits, having been cheered up by his father’s humour.</p><p>Then, more out of habit than anything else, he checked messenger for new messages... and his good mood was instantly ruined.    </p><p>Tom had replied quite some time ago.</p><p>
  <em>22APR AT 11:49 AM<br/>Whatever we “are”? Not “were”?</em>
</p><p>Bilbo sighed. He really didn’t wish to drag this conversation on and on. It only hurt more.</p><p>
  <em>Please stop it, you’re not making this any easier. Just let me go. </em>
</p><p>He sent his reply and closed messenger, seeing that Tom was online. Bilbo didn’t wish to see if he read the message. However, a notification immediately popped up; it was for Tom’s response.</p><p>
  <em>I can’t.<br/>You’ve become important to me. </em>
</p><p>Bilbo let out a shaky breath, wondering what on Yavanna had he got himself into. This was trouble, still talking to Tom was going to get him in so much trouble, yet, what else could he say?</p><p><em>I know. I feel the same. </em> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 4 - "A little bit of honesty"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Thorin smirked and walked up close to Bilbo in a few quick strides, invading his personal space just to mess with him. “You think you actually have what it takes?” he asked, looking Bilbo in the eye.</p><p>Bilbo narrowed his eyes at him but didn’t break the eye contact. “Don’t start it, Thorin,” he whispered, his voice coming out husky.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you all for your beautiful response to this fic. Your comments are like top-quality food for my starving-for-reassurance writer self. So, really, thank you for your feedback, it keeps me going (even though I go slow, I know, and I'm sorry ;-;) &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The question was: where did they go from here?</p><p>They were important for each other, as they admitted last night. It was clear now, but what were they supposed to do about it?</p><p>The problem was that Bilbo absolutely could not swear his loyalty to Thorin and marry the man while keeping up this “chatting” with Thomas. If some hacker uncovered this, it would be such a disaster, he dreaded to even think about it.</p><p>Bilbo bit at his lower lip, uncertain. He had to do something about this quickly. He didn’t have all the time in the world; another day of talks would soon begin. He had to get ready and also had to stop giving Tom false hope. He had to crush his own hope, too.</p><p>With a nervous sigh and a heavy heart, Bilbo typed a message.</p><p>
  <em>Can we just stay friends? We can’t go on like we used to, I’m supposed to marry that person. </em>
</p><p>He clicked sent and immediately pushed all the thoughts about this mess away. He would rather not start considering where this little bit of honesty could lead him. He would see soon enough anyway.</p><p>***</p><p>Negotiations went on. They had agreed on two weddings, the first one to be held in the Shire, followed by one in Erebor a week later. The date for the Shire wedding was set on the last week of July, while the Erebor one would be held at the beginning of August. This left them just about three months to organize everything, which was quite a feat.</p><p>They were now in the middle of discussing the details of their marriage. It felt slightly surreal to Thorin to talk about things such as which one of them would move to live with the other. Bilbo was reluctant to agree to live in Erebor, even though he could have his sister acting regent for him. He argued that the situation was exactly the same for Thorin.</p><p>As much as no one in the room said it out loud, it was a matter of pride. Bilbo giving up his throne and going to Erebor would mean him, and the Shire as an extension, submitting to Erebor; admitting that they were the more “dependent” ones, which actually wasn’t the case. It was Erebor who needed them more; the Shire, although without military protection at the moment, wasn’t in immediate danger from the Orcs right now.</p><p>Thorin, however, was just as unwilling to agree to move to the Shire, for exactly the same reasons as Bilbo. Both of them were starting to enter a real argument and Gandalf changed the subject of discussion not-so-subtly.</p><p>Still, Thorin tried to disagree with Bilbo as much as he could along the way, more out of curiosity than anything else. He wanted to see how much Bilbo could handle, since some of the Ereborian officials were terribly fond of opposing one’s point and Bilbo had to get used to that. To Thorin’s surprise, he did rather well, contradicting most of Thorin’s arguments without much trouble. The guy did have a sharp tongue, Thorin had to admit, and maybe literary translation wasn’t completely useless, since it had to be thanks to it that Bilbo had the ability to notice all the implications of words and what was written in between the lines as they went through the draft of their marriage contract.</p><p>When the time for dinner rolled around, Bilbo (and, frankly, everybody else) seemed fed up with his behaviour, so Thorin wasn’t exactly surprised when Bilbo said, “Thorin, a moment alone, please?” as everyone but them and Thorin’s parents left the conference room.</p><p>Thráin and Frís stopped in the doorway and both eyed them warily.</p><p>“Don’t worry, Your Majesties,” Bilbo joked, “I’m not going to eat him.”</p><p>Thráin chuckled and Frís smiled. “You must really drop the titles,” the Queen said.</p><p>Bilbo nodded. “All right then, Frís. We’ll join you soon.”</p><p>The King and The Queen shot them one last anxious look and left. As soon as the door shut, Bilbo turned to Thorin, putting his hands on his hips. “What are you doing?” he asked.</p><p>Thorin crossed his arms. “What do you mean?”</p><p>Bilbo seized him with a fierce look. “Don’t play stupid with me,” he said, his voice pitched low, “stop <em>testing</em> me, Thorin, or whatever you’ve been doing. I don’t want all of this as much as you do but I’m trying my best. I can see that you and everyone around has doubts about my <em>fitness</em> to the position of your husband, but at least let me prove myself without making it harder for me.”</p><p>Thorin smirked and walked up close to Bilbo in a few quick strides, invading his personal space just to mess with him. “You think you actually have what it takes?” he asked, looking Bilbo in the eye.</p><p>Bilbo narrowed his eyes at him but didn’t break the eye contact. “Don’t start it, Thorin,” he whispered, his voice coming out husky.</p><p>Thorin hummed and tried to stare Bilbo down some more, with little success. The guy just refused to be swayed, out of sheer spite as Thorin guessed, and it was <em>annoying</em>. With a huff, he stepped away and said, “Okay, I’ll stop.”</p><p>“Oh thank you so much for this <em>grand</em> kindness!” Bilbo exclaimed with clear exasperation, throwing his hands up in the air.</p><p>Thorin snorted in amusement despite himself and, as silence fell between them, it finally occurred to him that this was the first time they had a private conversation. He realised that there was no better opportunity to apologize to Bilbo than now.  “I...” he began and cleared his throat. “I apologize. For what I said during our introduction. Sometimes I blurt out stupid stuff like that, I know it’s a problem. My words were very rude and I’m sorry.”</p><p>Bilbo stood with his arms crossed, a very unimpressed look on his face. “Oh, <em>now</em> you’re sorry!” He laughed mirthlessly. “I’ll warn you that Bagginses are very good at holding a grudge. I’m still angry about it and will be for some time.”</p><p>Thorin pursed his lips but inclined his head in agreement.“Shall we go?”</p><p>Bilbo nodded and headed to the door without looking back.</p><p>***</p><p>When they entered the Dining Room, Bilbo was surprised to hear two tiny voices. There was a dark-haired boy sitting in Thráin’s lap and an older blond boy sat on a chair between Dís and Frís. Both children had their hair long and braided and were honestly <em>adorable</em> as they chattered away about something</p><p>Bilbo smiled and looked at the adults, his gaze questioning, while Thorin went to the table and greeted the boys.</p><p>“Someone really didn’t want to stay in bed,” Víli explained and got up from his seat. “Come, Fíli,” he said to the older boy and the two of them walked up Bilbo. “Bilbo, this is Prince Fíli,” he said, laying a hand on Fíli’s arm, “Fíli, this is Bilbo Baggins, Crown Prince of the Shire.”</p><p>Bilbo crouched down to be at Fíli’s eye level and extended his hand. “Hello!”</p><p>Fíli, whose hair was the colour of his father’s and eyes the colour of his mother’s, shook his hand, the expression on his face unusually sober for a seven-year-old. “Hi, mister Boggins,” he said in a small voice.</p><p>Bilbo couldn’t help but laugh. “Now, <em>Boggins</em> is not exactly my name,” he answered with a smile, “but you know what? I think I actually like it more!” He hadn’t stopped smiling and slowly, tentatively, Fíli smiled back, which made Bilbo very proud of himself.</p><p>He stood up, sharing a smile with Víli, and Dís approached them with the younger boy in her arms. The child had his father’s big dark eyes and his mother’s dark brown hair. “This is Kíli,” Dís said, the grin on her face wide and warm. “C’mon Kíli, shake your hand with master Bilbo.”</p><p>The boy watched him curiously for a moment and then extended his tiny hand towards him. Bilbo took it, giving it a slow shake, which was precisely when Kíli sneezed right at their joined hands, getting his face dirty with a snot.</p><p>“Kíli!” Dís and Víli exclaimed in unison. “I’m so sorry, Bilbo!” Dís apologized, “Ví, do you have any tissue with you?”   </p><p>While Víli started patting down all his pockets frantically, Fíli started giggling and Bilbo just had to laugh too. “It’s all right, this happens,” he said and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, wiping his hand. He then took out his spare one and handed it to Víli, “here, use this.”</p><p>“Oh thanks,” Víli breathed out.</p><p>After Bilbo washed his hands in the bathroom nearby, the whole family sat down and ate dinner. As Bilbo observed how everyone doted on the boys, he was simultaneously filled with warmth at the endearing display of affection and hit by a pang of longing for his own family. He really missed eating together with his parents, Prim, Drogo and Frodo, but it was unlikely that he would able to meet with them any time soon. Bilbo would have to manage without them and perhaps it wouldn’t be so hard. His family soon-to-be didn’t seem all that bad, after all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hell yeah, some tension!</p><p>I really hope the next chapter won't take me so long, I have half of it written down. There are some major feels ahead!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 5 - "Earnest bathroom conversation"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A touch at his cheek shook him out of the darkness in his head. Bilbo’s face was suddenly close to his as he wiped the wetness on Thorin’s cheek with a handkerchief. “I – forgive me,” Bilbo murmured, “I wouldn’t have asked, had I known I’d bring out those memories. I’m so sorry that you went through this.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fuelled by your amazing comments and a great wave of inspiration, I produced this chapter! </p><p>Warning: it's an emotional ride. I kinda made myself cry. </p><p>IMPORTANT WARNING: a short section of this chapter talks about suicide! It's marked with (<b>!</b>) at the beginning at the end. Please be careful if it can trigger you in any way!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>23 APR AT 07:56 AM</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Can we just stay friends? We can’t go on like we used to, I’m supposed to marry that person.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>23APR AT 07:59 PM<br/>Friends it is, then.<br/>Btw, supposed to marry?<br/>What does that even mean?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>24APR AT 10:13 AM<br/>People around me know better what’s good for me, let’s put it that way. I really don’t want to talk about it now, ok? How are you, anyway?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>24APR AT 11:40 AM<br/>You’re being really secretive lately.<br/>And I’m fine. Have been really busy with work. How are you?<br/>How’s your PhD research going?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>24APR AT 09:37PM<br/>Yes, well, I’m more interesting when I’m a bit secretive, aren’t I?<br/>And don’t even get me started about work. That’s why I’ve been so slow at replying recently. You’d think one could get away from it on a weekend but no, of course not! Tomorrow’s Sunday and I won’t get much sleep either. What an atrocity.<br/>And the research’s been put on hold for now. Family stuff. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 25APR AT 08:49 AM<br/>Here we go, secretive again.<br/>It’s nothing bad, right?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>25APR AT 10:38 PM</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Not really, but it’s important and takes precedence over everything else. Happens sometimes.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>All right then, enough about me if this bothers you so much. Tell me about your weekend. Are you well, overall?</em>
</p><p>Was he well, indeed.</p><p>Thorin read over the texts they exchanged over the weekend, during which Thorin was also busy with his duties that had been put aside due to the negotiations, and now thought about what to answer.</p><p>He really wasn’t <em>well</em>, just as Will wasn’t. Thorin wondered if the “family stuff” and Will being “supposed to marry” someone equalled or two difficult things happened to him at once. Misery did love company, but Thorin hoped it wasn’t the case. Being pushed into marriage was pretty awful in itself and strangely enough, Thorin could sympathize. What were the odds that the two of them were in a similar situation?</p><p>Arranged marriages did still happen sometimes, though. They were becoming rarer and rarer, it wasn’t the Third Age anymore, but they weren’t unheard of, and it was just Thorin’s luck to have to enter one. At least Will didn’t make it harder. It was a good idea to stay friends. Thorin wouldn’t be able to look Bilbo in the eye and swear faithfulness while having a lover on the side. It was not how Ereborians did marriage.</p><p>With a sigh, Thorin closed the app, hid the phone in the pocket of his jacket and headed out of his rooms. Will had sent the last message yesterday evening but Thorin had decided to reply later, having different things on his mind now; the conference would begin in two hours. They were about to announce the alliance to the press and there was only thing left to do.  </p><p>Before long, Thorin found himself standing in front of the door to Bilbo’s rooms. He rang the doorbell and waited the door opened, and Bilbo let Thorin in with a quiet “good morning”.</p><p>Thorin entered, looking around. It wasn’t a surprise to him that Bilbo had chosen the view of the woods and meadows around the River Running as the background on the walls. The Shire people did seem to have a close connection to nature.</p><p>“So.” Bilbo cleared his throat. “I figured that we should to this in the bathroom. You could watch what I’m doing in the mirror and correct me if need be,” he said, his hands twitching.</p><p>“You look nervous,” Thorin stated with a frown.</p><p>“Because I am,” Bilbo answered, “like <em>hell</em>. I <em>hate</em> making public speeches. It’s strange, because if you ask me to give a lecture to my students, I’ll do it anytime, but if I’m to say something on some official event, or, Eru forbid, press conference, anxiety becomes my first name. Don’t know why, but that stuff scares me like nothing else. Maybe because every my mistake goes live. In HD. Don’t you love when that happens?”</p><p>Thorin huffed a short laugh at Bilbo’s rambling. “I see what you mean. I don’t get anxiety, but sometimes I just really don’t like doing that. It gets tiring.”</p><p>“Of course you don’t get stage fright,” Bilbo grumbled under his breath, then cleared his throat and said more loudly, “So, the bathroom?</p><p>“Yeah.” Thorin nodded and followed Bilbo to the bathroom, where a chair was placed in front of the washbasin and the mirror. Thorin sat down on it and looked at Bilbo’s reflection in the mirror. An awkward silence fell between them.</p><p>It was indeed awkward, to do the ritual just like this, <em>here</em> of all places, and because they had to. Thorin never considered entering a serious relationship in his life, not really, he was always too busy for that, but this was <em>certainly</em> not like he ever imagined his engagement would go.</p><p>“Do you want your ring first or...?” Thorin asked.</p><p>“Oh no, you first, if that’s okay.”</p><p>Thorin nodded and then started explaining to Bilbo how to do the engagement braid, weaving the strands a few times to show him, then he left it for Bilbo to finish. Thorin watched him in the mirror as he quietly plaited Thorin’s hair, his brow creased in concentration. Soon enough, Bilbo was done and Thorin handed him a mithril clasp with the sigil of Durin craved into it. When Bilbo let go if the braid and let it hang, however, it turned out it was rather loose and it didn’t look that good, but Thorin decided to keep that to himself.</p><p>“Oh dear,” Bilbo commented, “I can redo it.” He looked at the watch on his wrist. “We’ve still got plenty of time.”</p><p>Thorin shrugged. “If you want.”</p><p>Bilbo undid the braid, combed his hair and began braiding it again, all in silence. Thorin searched for a topic for conversation in his head, since this quiet was becoming unbearable. Thankfully, a good enough question quickly popped up in his head. “What parts of Erebor have you seen so far?”</p><p>Bilbo glanced at him in clear surprise but answered, “I’ve seen quite a bit. Balin showed me around a lot of places on Saturday. The Entrance Hall, for instance, goodness!” he gushed, “it’s <em>stunning</em>. And then Ori joined us and he introduced me to his brothers, Nori and Dori, lovely fellows.” Bilbo babbled on, about how he had pleasantly spent time with Balin and the ‘Ri brothers, and how in the evening his students had turned out to be merciful, having sent in essays which weren’t <em>very</em> bad, so he hadn’t slept only half the night and hadn’t suffered from a breakdown. Then he told Thorin about his Sunday, all the while eliciting amused huffs from Thorin.</p><p>It was much better than silence.</p><p>Thorin soon changed his mind, though, because when Bilbo was almost done with the braid, his demeanour changed from cheerful to solemn and he asked quietly, “Thorin, how bad is it really? With food in Erebor?”</p><p>Thorin clenched his jaw. He would <em>much</em> rather not say, it was the second greatest shame of his life so far, but he couldn’t <em>not</em> answer Bilbo now. “All the commercial sale of food has been stopped,” he replied, “it’s all under the government’s control. There’s food rationing and yet we have up to six months. Then...” he swallowed hard. The line of Durin did not <em>beg</em>, but it was a close thing, when he looked Bilbo in the eyes in the mirror and admitted, “then two million people will starve.”</p><p>Bilbo’s eyes went wide, and he let go of the finished braid, which looked much better than the first one. “<em>E-everyone</em>? Both Iron Hills and... Sweet Eru...” he breathed out and then, as if some switch had been turned on, he became <em>angry</em>. “Why did nobody <em>say</em> anything earlier?!” he exclaimed, “We should’ve been informed that you need <em>that</em> much! No, this won’t do! I’ll talk to my father today, we have to start production immediately. We do tend to have a decent surplus of food, but not <em>that</em> big.”</p><p>Thorin bowed his head, hoping that the hair falling around his face would hide how much shame he felt because of failing so. “Thank you,” he murmured, meaning it in earnest.</p><p>“It’s quite all right,” Bilbo answered quietly. “Ereborians are not my people...” He paused and blinked. “At least not yet anyway, but I’ll <em>never</em> let anyone starve. We take great pride in the fact that nobody goes hungry in the Shire.”</p><p>Thorin didn’t know what to say to that, so he just nodded. “Any more questions?” he growled out, sincerely hoping that Bilbo would say no.</p><p>Of course Bilbo, totally unfazed, replied, “Yes, actually. Only one though: why is your beard short?”</p><p>Thorin’s heart stopped for a minute. “What?” he blurted out.</p><p>“Um... I’m just wondering. I haven’t really seen a grown man with facial hair this short around here. Everyone seems to take great pride in their hair and I figured, there’s some...” he gestured at Thorin’s face, “story behind this.”</p><p>Thorin clenched his fists. There was <em>some</em> story indeed. Damn Bilbo for asking such questions. This conversation was about to get really <em>bloody</em> earnest. He let out a slow breath to calm himself and answered, “you’re going to be part of this family, so somebody would tell you sooner or later. It should be me anyway.”</p><p>“O...okay? Tell me, then.”</p><p>Thorin shot Bilbo a glare. “You’d better sit down for this.” He realised there wasn’t anything to sit on except the toilet, which would be strange, so he added, “or at least lean against something.”</p><p>Bilbo blinked but did lean against the wall, looking down at him, since Thorin still sat on the chair. He took a deep breath and started, “You may recall what happened to my family three years ago.”</p><p>Bilbo frowned, tilting his head to the side in question.</p><p>Thorin closed his eyes and said, “The crash.”</p><p>He tried to chase the memories away, but it all came back, flooding in: the moment he lost control, Frerin screaming his name, the sharp pain in his head and suddenly nothingness, after which was waking up to a <em>nightmare</em>.</p><p>“Oh, I’m sorry... that,” Bilbo said quietly, mournfully, “but what does it have to do with your hair?”</p><p>Thorin swallowed hard. “In our culture, shaving your hair is either a sign of mourning or shame.” His hands began trembling, so he hid them in the pockets of his jacket. “The public knows that Dwalin was the driver,” he went on, about to confess the greatest shame and crime of his life, “just a few know the truth: that I was the one driving.”</p><p>Bilbo’s mouth hung open, but Thorin carried on before Bilbo could say anything because if he stopped now, he would just break down. “The road was slippery and suddenly the car just skidded off and we hit that tree and...” He tried to stop the tears from falling. “I was in a coma for a few weeks after the accident. I woke up to my brother being dead and my best friend taking all the blame, that fool. He lied that he had been the one driving when in truth he'd sat on the backseat behind Frerin. He was the only one not to lose consciousness. He called the ambulance and dragged us both out of the car. He tried to save Frerin but it was too late.”</p><p>He tried not to think about that moment when he had opened his eyes and saw his mother sitting at his side in the hospital room with her face tear-streaked and that dead look in her eyes. “Frerin,” she had whispered, “he didn’t... He’s gone.”</p><p>His world had been destroyed at that very moment.</p><p>Thorin exhaled shakily and kept talking, his voice wavering, “So I shaved my hair and my beard, as a sign of my mourning and shame. I kept them short for some time, but two years ago Dís convinced me to start growing my hair out. The beard stays and will stay short, though. It’s what I deserve,” he snarled through clenched teeth. He knew he deserved punishment so much harsher than that.</p><p>He deserved to be <em>dead</em>.</p><p>It should’ve been him, not Frerin. Thorin would trade places with him, gladly, or even not survive the crash together with him. If Mahal’s Halls of Waiting actually existed, he longed to be in them too, just to see Frerin again, hear his voice and his laugh, just to tell him how so very <em>sorry</em> he was.</p><p>(<strong>!</strong>) He had even planned it. He had hoarded painkillers and vodka in his rooms and when his “collection” had grown large enough he had often looked at it all, debating whether he should do it. A few times he had almost taken the first handful of pills, but the thought of Dís stopped him every time. He couldn’t leave her all alone with everything. He just couldn’t break her heart, it had had enough cracks. His parents, Dwalin, Víli and the boys would have been sad, too. </p><p>And so, he hadn't done it. (<strong>!</strong>)</p><p>Ever since, he had been living in a world where everything was colder, emptier and heavier than... the before. The before had been filled with Frerin’s cheerfulness and love for fun, them playing pranks on each other and everyone around, even as adults. It had been Frerin’s steady presence that had been supposed to be at his side always, his right hand, his most trusted advisor, his closest friend, his beloved <em>brother.</em></p><p>It had hurt, it hurt still, every day. Some wounds did not really heal with time, as Thorin had learnt. Not when the loss continued to strike with each meal when there was one chair too few at their family table. Not when the before had been <em>better</em>.</p><p>Thorin hadn’t even been at his funeral. He had spent it fighting for his life and he so often wished things had been different.</p><p>A touch at his cheek shook him out of the darkness in his head. Bilbo’s face was suddenly close to his as he wiped the wetness on Thorin’s cheek with a handkerchief. “I – forgive me,” Bilbo murmured, “I wouldn’t have asked, had I known I’d bring out those memories. I’m so sorry that you went through this.”</p><p>Thorin said nothing, still returning to himself from that dark pit of grief, and stared at Bilbo’s face. It turned out that the Crown Prince of the Shire had delicate freckles under his eyes, his lashes were long and his eyes were the shade of blue that reminded him of the Arkensone’s light and... he was too close. Thorin cleared his throat and turned away, hiding his face in his hair. “As I said,” he answered finally, “someone had to tell you sooner or later.”</p><p>He heard Bilbo sigh. “Should we go?” he asked gently.</p><p>Thorin nodded and got up. Bilbo was already leaving the bathroom when the thought hit Thorin. “Your ring...” he began.</p><p>Bilbo stopped in his tracks and turned back to him. “Oh right,” he said and walked up to Thorin, no looking him in the eye. Thorin took the ring box out of the inside pocket of his jacket and opened it.</p><p>“I suppose <em>you</em> should put it on me,” Bilbo said, “it’s only fair. I <em>did</em> do you braid.” Bilbo’s voice was actually light and teasing and Thorin prayed for patience in his mind. He was in no mood for <em>teasing</em>. Still, he took Bilbo’s outstretched hand, which turned out to be much smaller than his, and slid the golden ring on Bilbo’s finger. The emerald gleamed in the white light of the bathroom lamps.</p><p>“Oh,” Bilbo breathed out, “I actually... like it.” He took his hand away from Thorin’s hold and cleared his throat. “Let’s go, shall we?”</p><p>“Yeah, right.”</p><p>When they were on the way to the room where the conference would be held, Bilbo spoke up again in that voice full of good humour, “Tell you what,” he said, “I should’ve made you get down on one knee right next to the toilet.”</p><p>“Shut up,” Thorin grumbled.</p><p>Bilbo laughed out loud, which made Thorin’s spirits lift slightly.</p><p>***</p><p>The information had gone public.</p><p>Bilbo was in his rooms, going through his phone idly. The whole thing was over, and his mind almost shut off from the sheer stress of it –  of the array of cameras and the incessant flashes and the aggressive questions. He now scrolled through his social media apps without thinking about anything much, immensely grateful that there were no talks today. It would be a true challenge to look Thorin in the eye. The sight of him so broken, tears rolling down his face, was now forever imprinted in Bilbo’s mind and he <em>hated</em> it. He had hated seeing the man cry, actually <em>making</em> him cry. He felt so terrible about it that he could hardly think of anything else.</p><p>As if by the Valar’s grace, again, Prim texted him.</p><p>
  <em>Oh boy, you two got the whole Middle Earth sh00k to the ground. It’s all right, though, people already ship you. They call you Thilbo and I love it!</em>
</p><p>Bilbo snorted. Dear Prim, always there for him. The story of Thorin losing his brother had made him realise just how much he loved his sister and how he couldn’t imagine his life without her. He had to call her to tell her that, so he texted her asking about it.</p><p>
  <em>Do you have time to face time right now? I miss you.</em>
</p><p>Her reply came instantly.</p><p>
  <em>Awww! Actually, I have a surprise!</em>
</p><p>The surprise turned out to be a face time call with the whole family. His parents and Prim with Drogo and Frodo were there together, at Bag End. Drogo told him that they had been chased out of the Buckland Manor by their head housekeeper because of some renovation work and would spend the whole week in Hobbiton.</p><p>Oh dear Salvia. The main housekeeper of the Buckland Manor was sassy to the point of it being legendary. It made their lives delightful.</p><p>Talking to his whole family was delightful as well, at least to the point when he brought up just how dire the situation was in Erebor. Then everyone was horrified and angry, and his father assured him that he would take care of it at once, which made Bilbo sigh in relief. He had to do this for Thorin. Bilbo did owe him something for bringing up... <em>that,</em> in the bathroom. He would make sure Thorin had one less thing to worry about.</p><p>And no more bathroom conversations with that guy, that was for certain.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 6 - "The strike"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bilbo turned to Thorin with a small smile. “Thank you,” he said, “this was lovely.”</p><p>Thorin looked into his eyes and Bilbo found he could not look away. “It was,” Thorin replied in a deep rumble, making Bilbo feel very warm.</p><p>They both flinched as a loud shout snapped them back to reality</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here she comes, back on her bullshit, showing up after way too long as always. </p><p>Many hugs to you all for your amazing feedback and hope you enjoy this chapter! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Some quiet chuckles and whispers woke him up. There were two light weights pressed against his sides and when he opened his eyes, he was in the boys’ bedroom. Blinking the sleepiness away, he realised that Fíli and Kíli had fallen asleep when he had been reading to them and he had also dozed off.</p><p>He would often spend evenings with his nephews like this, as much as he could anyway. After the boys' nanny finished his work for the day, Víli and Dís, who were now standing in the doorway and watching him with grins on their faces, still appreciated having some time to themselves, and Thorin never had to be asked twice to look after his nephews.</p><p>“I bet you took pictures of this,” Thorin grumbled.</p><p>“You did look adorable,” Víli responded.</p><p>Thorin scoffed and started extracting himself as gently as he could from his nephews’ embrace. After he finally managed to get up, he said quietly, “Dís, those reports –”</p><p>“It’s okay,” she cut in, “it’s taken care for now. Go to sleep.”</p><p>“But –”</p><p>“You’ve been working yourself to the ground for so long,” Víli said, “you really need some sleep.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Dís added, “Erebor has no need for an exhausted heir to the throne. Don’t worry about anything today and go get some rest.”</p><p>“Don’t worry about anything, a good one,” Thorin grumbled but did do as they told him. He went to his rooms and, after taking a long, hot shower, headed straight to bed. When he was lying there, looking at “his” stars again, thoughts of Will came to his mind, unbidden.</p><p>The texts had grown few and far in between recently, and when they did message each other, it was mostly conversations about how they were busy with work. Sometimes they shared some funny memes with each other but overall their messages were now meaningless, polite and friendly, nothing else. Thorin had been making an effort to stop himself from sending flirty responses to Will, even though it came to him so easily.</p><p>It was strange, how little it took for them to begin drifting apart even though growing close had been so natural, and Thorin just couldn’t let it go. Maybe it was a stupid thing to mull over, yet, if not this, he had much bigger things that burdened his thoughts, like the Orcs. A crime group notorious over this side of the Misty Mountains which had been here for a long time. They were numerous, made themselves hard to track and worked together with other groups, like the Wargs, the Goblins and the Spiders.</p><p>Each group had their own structures and goals, yet every one sought to destabilize the countries they pestered as much as they could so that they would grow in numbers and recourses. All the groups didn’t seem united anymore, thank Mahal, not like they had used to be under Sauron. Sauron was dead, though. They were almost sure he was dead, at least. As long as that particularly powerful mob boss didn’t come back to the living, the Middle Earth wasn’t at a great threat. Still, there was a lot of trouble. The Orcs were especially decided on steadily weakening Erebor by stealing their food, their raids so insanely erratic that Thorin refused to believe it wasn’t carefully planned.</p><p>Now, though, a strange thing had happened: ever since the press conference, the raids had stopped altogether. The Orcs as if vanished, leaving no trace after themselves, and it was no cause for celebration. Thorin had a really bad feeling about this.</p><p>Sleep did not come quickly that night. Life went on, though, regardless of Thorin's exhaustion.</p><p>It was two and a half weeks after the press conference. They were already done with the marriage contract, which was a great achievement in such a short amount of time, and were now entering the stage of drafting up the agreement of the alliance. Because of all the details to consider and the discrepancies of the legal systems of their countries, the talks became <em>tedious. </em>At some points Thorin found himself wishing to almost crawl out of his skin from boredom.</p><p>Boredom was likely the reason why Bilbo had started disagreeing with him as frequently as he could during the talks, looking all bloody amused about it. Maybe he also wanted his revenge or had other reasons for those strikes of good humour that Thorin could not comprehend. All Thorin knew was that it made the negotiations even more irritating; he had told Bilbo that he would stop with such behaviour but Bilbo had promised no such thing in turn, so Thorin could not really return the favour of being annoying.</p><p>That was why, during one coffee break, Thorin approached Bilbo and Ori (they tended to spend the coffee breaks together) with the full intention of telling Bilbo to <em>stop it</em>, but what that ended up in was Bilbo dragging him into whatever conversation was going on, then making fun of him subtly, Thorin grumbling and telling Bilbo to shut up and Bilbo laughing.</p><p>After that, Thorin began joining Bilbo and Ori during coffee breaks because Councilman Asam and Councilwoman Tamerí tended to be with them too, and Tamerí’s merciless wit coupled with Asam’s dry humour was a form of entertainment in itself. Then, even if Tamerí and Asam weren’t there, Thorin stayed because Balin and Dís would join them, and he always loved watching Balin argue with his sister, or, as they both put it, debate something very politely.</p><p>Then, even if it was just Bilbo and Ori, Thorin stayed, as it was still a good company. Ori was a bright young man and had many valuable insights to offer, even though he did seem intimidated by their differences in rank. Sometimes Ori had some matters to attend, though, and left them alone, just Bilbo and Thorin. Thorin stayed anyway; it would be rude to just go away, and they always had the subject of their nephews to talk about, which was a safe topic for a civil enough conversation. It quickly turned out they had at least one thing in common: the love they held for their nephews. They exchanged some funny stories about their boys and sometimes when Thorin shared some mischief Fili and Kili had been up to, Bilbo got that strange, gobsmacked look on his face, but it disappeared quickly, so Thorin thought nothing of it.</p><p>Whenever they returned to the conference room together, Gandalf looked way too smug, while Dís shot Thorin pointed looks, giving him thumbs up. He answered with rude Iglishmêk gestures when no one was looking (no one except their parents or Balin, to be precise. They wouldn’t be shocked by this).</p><p>Honestly, Thorin didn’t mind Dís’s reaction that much. She, at least, didn’t <em>comment</em>, unlike Gandalf, who approached Thorin after one day of negotiations and remarked, “I’m pleased to see the recent development in your relationship with Prince Bilbo, Your Highness.” Thorin only barely refrained from scoffing that there was no relationship to begin with. “However,” Gandalf went on, “I can’t help but wonder if you’ve been truly getting to know him.”</p><p>It took every ounce of Thorin’s self-control to bite back the answer that them getting to know each other had so far ended up in Thorin confessing to murder and crying about it. He took a deep breath and managed a more polite reply, “I may have been neglecting this issue.”</p><p>“So I thought!” Gandalf said, “allow me, then, to suggest that you do make time to get to know your future husband, Your Highness.”</p><p>Gandalf looked at Thorin expectantly and he sighed.</p><p>Damn that old man.</p><p>***</p><p>Exactly a month after his arrival, when he tried to enjoy a quiet Saturday afternoon filled with academic reading, the bell rang unexpectedly. Bilbo frowned in displeasure but went to open the door. He just had to gape when he found Thorin standing at his doorstep, wearing a long blue coat lined with fur, of all things.</p><p>“Hello,” Bilbo greeted him uncertainly, unsure why he would even be here. There was no <em>reason</em> for him to be here.</p><p>“Hi.” Thorin and cleared his throat. “Listen, uhm... are you busy?”</p><p>Bilbo blinked. For a moment, he hesitated, considering some lie about student essays to check. In the end, his polite upbringing won, and he answered, “Not that much actually, why?”</p><p>Thorin nodded once, seeming satisfied. “Come then, let me take you somewhere.”</p><p>Now, “somewhere” did not exactly sound thrilling, so Bilbo asked, “And where is that somewhere exactly?”</p><p>“The highest terrace on the Mountain,” Thorin explained, and well, that was actually exciting, if a little scary.</p><p>“Okay,” Bilbo answered, still baffled. Thorin had been seeking him out recently, joining him and others during coffee breaks, even making some effort to have a civil conversation. It was all strange and now got even <em>weirder</em>. Thorin <em>surely</em> had better things to do. “Just let me put on some shoes and I’ll be right back,” Bilbo said.</p><p>Thorin looked down at his bare feet and froze, just staring.</p><p>“Why are you looking at my feet like that?” Bilbo joked, trying to hide his growing discomfort, “you have some foot fetish or what?”</p><p>At hearing that, Thorin Durin, the crown prince of Erebor, actually blushed. Bilbo could swear to Yavanna he did.</p><p>“No,” Thorin all but chocked out, “it’s that... showing your feet to someone is a very intimate gesture in Erebor.”</p><p>Bilbo could feel heat rising on his cheeks. “Oh dear,” Bilbo muttered, “I... this is unfortunate. We often walk barefoot in our hoses in the Shire.” Thorin still didn’t cease looking at his feet and Bilbo babbled on, “Right, okay, I’ll put on my shoes. See yourself in if you’d like.”</p><p>When Bilbo fled to his bedroom, he heard Thorin call after him, “Take something warm to wear, it’ll be cold up there.”</p><p>Well, that explained the coat.</p><p>Bilbo put on shoes, a thin coat and a silk scarf, already realising that his clothing was probably too light for however far up they were going, but well. He hadn’t exactly packed for harsh weather. As he was heading out, he debated taking the phone with him but decided against it in the end. A moment of freedom away from this thing would do him some good. And it wasn’t like Tom would text him anything important anyway, he thought mournfully.</p><p>When he joined Thorin, the man looked fully composed. He led Bilbo out of the Royal Wing, the two of them walking in rather awkward silence, passing by many Ereborians. Everyone bowed to them before continuing on their way. Bilbo had always felt strange with people bowing to him, but Thorin seemed to have no such qualms; he acknowledged each person with an inclination of his head. He looked very regal with that coat on, his hair flowing as he walked, the engagement bead shining brightly.</p><p>Bilbo touched his engagement ring almost instinctively. He had found that tracing it with his fingers gave him a lot of comfort.</p><p>They entered a lift with a few other people and started going up, stopping on various floors with people going in and out. Eventually, it was just him and Thorin, and they still kept moving <em>up</em>. After the thirtieth floor, Bilbo refused to look at the number anymore. The lift stopped after what seemed to be an eternity and Bilbo followed Thorin through a narrow corridor. Then, at last, there was a big glass door which opened to a very large stone terrace.</p><p>When Thorin opened the door for him, Bilbo was hit in the face with a gust of wonderfully fresh and cold air. He took a few steps outside and breathed in, closing his eyes, enjoying the sunlight on his face.</p><p>Sweet Yavanna, how he missed being outside.</p><p>Well, it wasn’t like he hadn’t been out of the Mountain at all this past month. There were many balconies and terraces which each Ereborian felt obliged to use once a day, or more often preferably, so Bilbo had been doing so as well, but he had no time to truly enjoy it, not like right now.</p><p>As Balin had explained, everyone was aware that it would do great damage to the health of the whole population if they stopped going outside altogether, they already had to take supplements for vitamin D deficiency. Bilbo still could not understand why Ereborians went through all this trouble just to live under an intimidating mass of stone. Ori had told him that their mountains made them feel secure and almost untouchable but Bilbo didn’t exactly share the sentiment.</p><p>To think that the marriage contract would bind him to live at least half a year here! Bilbo would have to set up some garden on a terrace for himself or he would go insane. As he joined Thorin by the railing, he thought that it was a true shame that this terrace didn’t qualify for a garden. It was too high for anything to grow (so high that it almost made Bilbo’s head spin), which also meant stunning views.</p><p>Oh, the <em>views.</em></p><p>Bilbo could see the whole of the city-state of Dale spread below. Behind it, the Esgaroth Lake shone beautifully in the light of sun on the cloudless May afternoon. When he looked to the left, he could make out the Iron Hills, small in the distance, and to the right, there was Mirkwood and even the contour of the Misty Mountains was visible.</p><p>“This is amazing,” he breathed out.</p><p>“Yeah,” Thorin answered quietly, “this is one of my favourite places in the Mountain. Barely anyone comes here. I like to come here to think.”</p><p>Him showing this place to Bilbo was really... nice of Thorin, actually, and Bilbo couldn’t help but wonder why he would even bother to do so. He fought down the curiosity, though, and returned to admiring the landscape, his eyes turning to the West.</p><p>Something tugged in his chest. There, far over the Misty Mountains, were his family. His parents in Hobbiton and his sister, Drogo and Frodo in Buckland. He would love to see them, be back home, living his old life from before this mess. He knew exactly what he would love to be doing instead. He realised he couldn’t say the same about Thorin, though, so he asked, “What would you rather be doing than this?”</p><p>Thorin watched him closely for a moment and Bilbo noted, almost despite himself, that his eyes were the same beautiful colour as the sky. “I’d rather work on some new mining project and continue my military training,” Thorin answered, “Or do something fun.”</p><p>“Oh, so you actually can have fun?” Bilbo asked teasingly, “You don’t seem the type.”</p><p>He really didn’t. Thorin was so solemn at all times that Bilbo found himself wondering if he had ever loved fun, even as a kid. Bilbo couldn’t picture it at all but perhaps the Durins did have some mischievous streak that ran in the family. Fíli and Kíli were always up to making some trouble and sometimes, their mother actually joined them, while Thorin didn’t stop them. Thráin or Frís always scolded their daughter and grandsons, reminding them that they should behave around Bilbo, but Bilbo never minded. Their mischief was hilarious to witness, especially during dinners, and from what Thorin had described, the boys did behave themselves, considering what they were actually capable of. When Thorin had talked about some of the pranks his nephews had pulled off, Bilbo had actually felt like he had been losing his mind; Tom had told him some rather similar stories.</p><p>Bilbo had shrugged it off, however. It wasn’t like only one pair of kids around the world would come up with the idea of hiding under chairs and pinching unsuspecting adults in the ankles and other such silliness.</p><p>Thorin snorted. “Stop it. How about you?”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, I’d teach at uni, attend to my duties, keep working on my Ph.d.”<br/>
<br/>
Thorin raised his eyebrows in clear surprise. “You’re doing a Ph.d.?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yup, I’m around halfway through.”<br/>
<br/>
“That’s... cool.”<br/>
<br/>
Bilbo laughed out loud, because, really, Thorin’s expression was pinched as if it actually caused him physical pain to compliment Bilbo. “Thanks,” he replied, still chuckling, then added, “I study the differences between some Sindarin and Quenya poems and their Westeron translations.” He just couldn’t help himself; he simply loved talking about the subject and now had to stop himself from babbling on about it.</p><p>Thorin looked at him with a strange look on his face, as if he was shocked, which made no <em>sense</em>. After a moment, though, the Thorin schooled his expression back into a neutral mask. “Then you must be fluent in Sindarin and Quenya, right?” he said.</p><p>Thorin was not in any way impressed, Bilbo could see, and it wasn’t surprising. The tale of resentment between the Sindarin people and Ereborians was almost as old as time, and Bilbo honestly found it ridiculous. Still, he replied diplomatically, “Yes, and I hope to add Khuzdûl to the list.”</p><p>“You will,” Thorin answered, looking actually satisfied this time, but said no more.</p><p>They stood there in silence and Bilbo looked at Thorin’s regal profile in the corner of his eye. Curiosity struck him once again and, before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “was there someone?” Thorin looked at him and hummed questioningly. “Did you have someone? Before this.”</p><p>Bilbo, well, he wasn’t <em>blind</em>. Someone just had had to be interested in Thorin before. He was the heir to a powerful kingdom, after all. It was safe to assume that there were many people who would be willing to overlook his... challenging character for the promise of wealth and power. His good looks made him even more of a catch, Bilbo had to admit.  </p><p>Thorin pursed his lips and looked down at his hands, a pained frown on his face. Bilbo regretted asking instantly, but Thorin soon answered him, stopping Bilbo from overthinking. “There were some people in the army,” Thorin said, “when I was younger.” Bilbo didn’t expect him to go on, but he did, “Recently, I met someone.” He sighed. “But it wasn’t anything I couldn’t... call off.”</p><p>Bilbo nodded in understanding. It was really quite the same with him. Even though he was thirty-five, he never truly committed to any relationship. He tried a few times when he was in his twenties but no one could really hold his interest for long. When that person finally came along, though... well. It was nothing he couldn’t call off.</p><p>Bilbo was curious again, both about Thorin’s special person and about who were those “people”. Were they only men or women as well? He didn’t really know anything about Thorin’s sexuality; no one spoke of it. Ereborians were a rather secretive lot, Bilbo had found, although same-sex relationships seemed to be nothing out of ordinary for them. Councilman Asam mentioned his husband a few times and Councilwoman Tameri talked about one of her daughters getting engaged to a woman.</p><p>Even though the Ereborian culture seemed so foreign and strange to Bilbo in so many ways, he wished that this part, this openness for love of all kinds, had been a part of the culture of the Shire as well.</p><p>Maybe things would slowly start to change with their marriage.</p><p>They didn’t speak for some time and just admired the views, the hush between them interrupted only by a cold wind, which soon wind began blowing almost incessantly. Bilbo started shivering in his thin coat but tried to put on a brave face. He didn’t succeed in that for long. “Could we head back, please?” he broke the silence at last, “it’s splendid here, really, but also <em>cold</em>.”</p><p>“Sure,” Thorin chuckled, a deep, lovely sound, and Bilbo shivered <em>solely</em> because of the cold.</p><p>They passed the walk back with idle chatter about the upcoming talks and soon enough, they stood in front of the door to Bilbo rooms.</p><p>Bilbo turned to Thorin with a small smile. “Thank you,” he said, “this was lovely.”</p><p>Thorin looked into his eyes and Bilbo found he could not look away. “It was,” Thorin replied in a deep rumble, making Bilbo feel very warm.</p><p>They both flinched as a loud shout snapped them back to reality. “Where have you two been?! Why didn’t you answer the phone?!”</p><p>Dís walked up to them briskly. She almost broke into a jog, in fact, and there was something so frantic in her expression that Bilbo froze. Thorin had to catch up on it, too, because he asked, “Dís, what’s wrong?”</p><p>She pursed her lips but said nothing, fumbling for her phone in jerky movements that barely concealed the tremor of her hands. Bilbo’s blood ran cold.</p><p>When Dís unlocked the phone, she shoved the screen right before Bilbo’s face. When his eyes finally caught the focus, an article headline screamed at him.</p><p>
  <em>BREAKING: Fire At Buckland Manor. No Knowledge of Survivors. </em>
</p><p>When Bilbo finally registered what the words meant, the world began spinning, then everything went black.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Listen, listen, I just could <em>not</em> resist this plot twist. And the cliffhanger. I'm sorry, it was just too damn tempting. </p><p>Don't worry though, there are no tags about character death! Let it bring you consolation until the next chapter &lt;3 (Which I'll try to post as soon as I can but I'd rather not make any promises as to when that may be exactly, life is so busy right now ;-;).</p><p>Bilbo made chuckle in this one. Bilbo: no more earnest conversations with Thorin. Also Bilbo: asks one deep question after another xD</p><p>Also me @ both Bilbo and Thorin: CONNECT. THE FUCKING. DOTS.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 7 - "A man made solely of relief"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>For a moment, there was a silence in the room. All eyes were on Thráin, who messaged his temples with his hands, clearly thinking how much of a mess this whole situation was.</p><p>“Erebor will help you,” he spoke finally and oh, at that moment, Bilbo thought to himself with no small joy that he now was a man made solely of relief. “Is it possible for you to make a conference call from the hospital?”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh dear, this chapter was hard to write because of how emotion-laden it is, I'm sorry it took so long ;-; </p><p>With this chapter, the rating changes from teen to mature. From this point on, I'm gonna drop some f-bombs here and there. I simply can't do it without them sometimes. </p><p>Hope you enjoy! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When he regained consciousness, there were a few frantic voices. He recognized Thráin, Dís and Víli, all talking over each other in a language he didn’t understand. The intriguing string of harsh consonants and short vowels had him opening his eyes. Bilbo blinked against the bright light and, as his vision adjusted, he realised that he was in his bedroom, lying on the bed. Thráin, Dís and Víli were standing near the door, lost in the heated conversation. There was an unfamiliar man sitting on the chair by the side of his bed, his long hair and beard mostly grey.</p><p>“Your Highness,” the man said when they made eye contact, “I see you’re awake.” His words silenced the Ereborian royals, who turned their attention to Bilbo too. “My name is Óin, I’m the royal GP. How are you feeling?”</p><p>“I...” he began, unsure what to say. He did feel tired and weak. Sitting up was a challenge, and when he did, he managed a quiet, “not great, I suppose.” Everyone was watching him with great worry and something akin to fear, which didn’t make sense. With a confused frown, he asked, “what happened?”</p><p>Right then everyone’s expression turned grief-stricken and it all came <em>back</em>.</p><p>
  <em>No knowledge of survivors. </em>
</p><p>One of the pillars of his world had been suddenly struck down.</p><p><em>They were</em> –</p><p>He was falling, his head was spinning. He couldn’t breathe.</p><p>“Please take a deep breath,” Óin’s calm voice broke through his panic. “Take a deep breath,” the voice repeated firmly, and Bilbo obeyed. “Very good. A deep breath in...” Óin guided him, “and a deep breath out.”</p><p>After following Óin’s instructions for some time, Bilbo slowly started returning to reality. When he raised his head, which he had previously hidden in his hands without noticing, he saw the royals hovering over him.</p><p>“Bilbo,” Vili said gently, “we’re trying to reach them, find out anything, but no one is answering our calls –”</p><p>He was interrupted by Thorin entering the room, his sky-blue eyes flashing with concern, and oh, concern was a good look on Thorin, Bilbo’s silly brain supplied, especially when it was concern for him.</p><p>Bilbo shook his head slightly to rid it of such thoughts. “I should,” he started weakly, “I should... call. Where... where is my phone?” He looked around groggily, his mind still foggy. Thorin marched up the bedside table and handed him the phone.</p><p>“Thanks,” Bilbo said quietly.</p><p>“Easy there, Bilbo,” Thorin murmured in reply, sitting down next to him on the edge of the bed.</p><p>Bilbo said nothing, too focused on trying to enter Prim’s number with how much his hands were shaking.</p><p>The following minutes of dead silence in the room as they waited were one of the worst moments of his life. As the phone signal rang on with no answer, his vision started blurring. Primula didn’t pick up. His whole body began trembling and only Thorin’s hand on his arm kept him from breaking down completely.</p><p>He called Primula again and once more, there was no answer. Tears started streaming down his face.</p><p>Drogo. He had to try with Drogo, he told himself, as he tried not to lose his mind to grief. He entered Drogo’s number and, after three signals, his brother-in-law answered. On the other side, there was a quiet rustle, a cough, and at last, Drogo spoke. “Bilbo?” he asked, his deep voice rough.</p><p>“Drogo,” he gasped out, “Drogo, are they –”</p><p>“We’re alive. All of us, Frodo and Prim, all the staff. We managed to evacuate.”</p><p>A quiet sob escaped his lips. The sheer relief that flooded him was too much for him to handle and he promptly began crying. “There was that article headline,” he babbled, not making any sense even to himself, “that said “no knowledge of survivors” and I, I thought –”</p><p>“Must’ve been some very early report,” Drogo cut in, the voice of reason that he always was, “All the press should be updated on the situation soon.”</p><p>Bilbo swallowed thickly, releasing a shaky breath. “What happened?” he asked.</p><p>“Prim and I were in the garden when we saw the smoke. Frodo and most of the staff were inside. We ran into the house, yelling at everyone to get out. Salvia barely made it out with Frodo.” The words made a sense of dread shot through Bilbo. They had been so close to losing their dearest, precious boy and he had had <em>no idea</em>. “Most of the house has burnt down,” Drogo’s voice cracked, “we’ll have to rebuilt almost from scratch.”</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>,” Bilbo breathed out. He rarely used language like this but he couldn't refrain now. “Drogo, I’m so sorry,” he said, his own voice breaking, “do you have any information about the cause of the fire?”</p><p>“We've already confirmed that it was arson,” Drogo said darkly, then his voice shifted to a more frantic tone, “Bilbo, can you find the King or Prince Thorin quickly? We need help. We need protection <em>now</em>.”</p><p>Bilbo blinked, his brain not catching up with what Drogo was on about. “They are in the room with me,” he replied, “I could... put you on speaker.”</p><p>“Yes, do that, please.”</p><p>Bilbo nodded and got up from the bed. Thorin got up too and, together with the rest, stared at Bilbo with bated breath. “They are alive,” he informed them with a smile he couldn't contain, which had the rest sighing in relief. “My brother-in-law Drogo would like to talk to you,” Bilbo told Thráin.</p><p>A quick and strange round of introductions followed, with everyone literally introducing themselves to the voice in Bilbo’s phone. When it was done, Drogo addressed the King, “Your Majesty, I wish we’d met in different circumstances.”</p><p>“Likewise,” Thráin answered.</p><p>“Your Majesty, I want to ask you for help. Someone put fire to our manor in Buckland and I think this was just a warning from whoever did this. If they’d wanted to kill us, they would’ve. They could’ve set fire to all the exits but they clearly didn’t. Everyone made out of the fire alive. If the Orcs did this, it may be a message from them that they want the Shire to back out. Well, Bungo and Belladonna aren’t here for the decision making, not yet anyway because they're on their way, but I don’t think that’s an option. So we need protection, King Thráin. We need some armed forces here at once if that’s possible.”</p><p>The reality of the situation started weighing down on Bilbo with each word Drogo spoke. A cold spear of fear pierced his heart. What were the Orcs capable of doing when they understood the Shire would not back out?</p><p>“An emergency meeting is being arranged,” Thráin replied slowly, “we will discuss –”</p><p>On the other side, there could be heard a loud sound of a door opening and closing, which was followed by Prim’s voice, “Who are you talking to, dear?”</p><p>Bilbo almost broke down crying again at hearing her sweet voice. <em>Alive</em>, his sister was <em>alive</em>.</p><p>“Bilbo and – ” Drogo started.</p><p>“Bilbo!” she cried.</p><p>“Prim!” he choked out.</p><p>“Oh Bilbo,” Prim gasped, “Frodo has second-degree burns on his feet.” Everyone in the room collectively <em>growled,</em> and Bilbo saw red. “I’ll rip out the throats of the motherfuckers who did this,” Primula snarled, “With my <em>teeth</em>.”</p><p>The smile on Dís’s face was wide and cruel as she commented, “That’s the spirit I like to see.”</p><p>“Oh!” Prim exclaimed, “Oh dear, is there anyone else in the room?”</p><p>“Yes, actually,” Bilbo replied, trying not to laugh, “there’s King Thráin, Prince Thorin and Princess Dís, her husband Duke Víli and the Royal Doctor, Master Óin.”</p><p>“Goodness, forgive me my language, I –”</p><p>“Don’t worry about it, Your Highness,” Dís cut in, “I’m a mother myself, I would do the same if someone hurt my boys.” Her expression shifted to something darker and more dangerous. “The same or more,” she added.</p><p>“Oh,” Prim replied. It was a pleased little “oh”, Bilbo could tell, and it did <em>not</em> bode well. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Princess Dís.”</p><p>Thorin and Bilbo shared a worried look. Their sisters meeting and taking a liking to each other was something neither they nor the whole Middle Earth was prepared for.</p><p>“Pardon my intrusion into the conversation, Your Highness,” Óin spoke up, “it’s Óin speaking.”</p><p>“Hello Master Óin,” Prim and Drogo greeted him.</p><p>“Has Frodo received medical attention?”</p><p>“Ah, yes,” Prim said, “he’s been taken care of. We’re in the hospital, Frodo’s sleeping now.”</p><p>“Good,” Óin replied. He then addressed Bilbo, “I see you feel better Your Highness.” Bilbo nodded. “I assume I’m not needed anymore, then?”</p><p>“I think not,” Thráin told the doctor, “You may leave us. Thank you for your help, Óin.”</p><p>As soon as Óin left, Thorin got down to business. “What has been done to identify the suspects?” he asked, his arms crossed before his chest, “Is it possible to retrieve footage from security cameras?”</p><p>Drogo cleared his throat. “Ah, well. There are no security cameras.”</p><p>“What?!” Víli and Thorin exclaimed incredulously.</p><p>“It’s <em>the Shire</em>!” Drogo replied, “Why would there be security cameras? We don’t even lock the doors to our homes!”</p><p>All the Ereborian royals stared between Bilbo and the phone in his hand with their mouths slightly agape in shock. Bilbo heaved a sigh. “I’m aware that it’s drastically different from the way you lot live, but the Shire is a completely different story. For years, there was no indeed for such precautions. We do have some police force, but the crime rate is basically non-existent. For military protection, we always relied on the Dúnedain and... well, it seems we should’ve prepared for trouble the moment they left.”</p><p>“But we didn’t,” Prim added bitterly.</p><p>“Which is why I plead for help, King Thráin,” Drogo said, his tone grave. Bilbo could tell Drogo realised that Thráin did not have to do anything. They still were in the stage of negotiating the terms and conditions of the alliance. Erebor didn't owe them anything. </p><p>For a moment, there was a silence in the room. All eyes were on Thráin, who messaged his temples with his hands, clearly thinking how much of a mess this whole situation was.</p><p>“Erebor will help you,” he spoke finally and oh, at that moment, Bilbo thought to himself with no small joy that he now was a man made solely of relief. “Is it possible for you to make a conference call from the hospital?”</p><p>“We could make a video call from a phone,” Prim said.</p><p>“Good. As soon as the King and the Queen get there, contact Bilbo,” Thráin instructed, “We will meet through a video call and discuss everything.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Bilbo told Thráin as earnestly as he could. The King simply inclined his head, stoic and stern as ever, yet Bilbo could see a man who really cared beneath that exterior, and Bilbo almost hugged him.</p><p>Soon after that, the Ereborian royals left the room, allowing Bilbo to talk with his family privately. They all cried a little, then discussed who the culprits could be. As it turned out, the renovation work done in the Buckland Manor at the end of April had required more work than anticipated and Salvia had had to employ some people from the outside. After a few days of applications coming in, she took on a group of strangers to help with the work. </p><p>“Could Salvia...” Bilbo asked then, uncertainly.</p><p>“<em>No</em>,” both Drogo and Prim denied vehemently.</p><p>“No, she would <em>never</em>,” Prim said, and Drogo seconded her with, “Had she known, she would’ve chased them out by herself.”</p><p>Bilbo nodded, even though they could not see it. He trusted Salvia Brandybuck as much as they did, truly, yet different thoughts came to mind on occasion like this. Anyhow, he was glad to have any information about the suspects at all. He shared it gladly during the meeting, which was held in the next hour or so. The Shire police had already questioned many of the witnesses and some people did see some strangers around the Manor, but they would be still hard to identify. It would be a challenging investigation, and Gandalf decided to head to the Shire himself to help with it, which had Bilbo, for the first time in his life, hoping that the old man would actually do some of his weird “magic”. They just had to find them. </p><p>Bilbo didn't consider himself a vengeful person, yet the thought of Frodo's burned little feet stirred something very ugly within him. They had to find them. </p><p>Erebor already ordered for security to be sent over from the Blue Mountains to the Bag End Manor, where all the Shire's royal family (except Bilbo, ordered firmly by everyone to stay where he was) and staff would reside until further notice.</p><p>Both countries would issue an official statement regarding the situation in the morning. They agreed to regard the incident as an attack, potentially targeted to prevent the Shire from entering the alliance. All the details added up way too well for them not to assume that the Orcs either had done this or had hired someone to do it.</p><p>When they finished the meeting, it was already Sunday. Three in the morning on Sunday, to be exact, and another meeting was already scheduled for ten in the morning. They would have to discuss the details of Erebor providing military protection.</p><p>After they were done, Bilbo barely dragged himself to his rooms. Before he collapsed onto the bed, the power of habit won over his exhaustion and he checked his Facebook messages. There was one from Tom.</p><p>
  <em>21 MAY AT 6:33 PM</em><br/>
<em>Hey</em><br/>
<em>Just wanted to check up on you.</em><br/>
<em>You’re all right, I hope?</em>
</p><p>Oh, dear, sweet Thomas. As if he literally <em>knew</em>.</p><p>Dear Thomas. How Bilbo missed him. He was aware it was silly to miss him; they <em>were</em> still talking. Their conversations weren’t true anymore, though, all friendly and restrained. Bilbo longed to go back in time to when things were simple and exciting. When he had been thrilled to have met a person with whom he got along so well and got comfortable to open up about some matters, with whom he had been slowly but surely falling in love.</p><p>How Bilbo missed him. How he wanted to meet him finally, or just to see how he looked like. How he wished to see his family again, too, and kiss Frodo on the forehead. Overwhelmed with the sheer stress and all the emotion, he just wanted to cry it out. The tears didn’t come, though. He didn’t have the strength for it. Too worn out to do anything at all, he laid down on his bed and fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>At first, I intended this to be a longer chapter with a Thorin POV after Bilbo's but I figured it would be more convenient for me to split it into two chapters, and you, dear readers, also need a breath before what comes next! :&gt;</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 8 - "An answer"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Thorin scowled immediately, making Bilbo burst into giggles. It was a lovely, contagious sound, and Thorin couldn’t help but laugh as well. Together, they laughed for some time, and Thorin was struck by this sense of familiarity, as if he and Bilbo had known each other for longer than a mere month. It made no sense and he couldn’t understand why he would feel it in the first place.</p><p>He got an answer for this at dinner that day.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wohoo, an update so soon! Inspiration hit me out of the blue and I managed to produce this, albeit short, chapter. Hope you enjoy! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Thorin stepped into the terrace for his daily dose of fresh air in the morning, he wasn’t surprised to find Bilbo standing by the railing.</p><p>“Bilbo,” he said loudly to alert the other man of his presence.</p><p>Bilbo jerked in surprise and turned to him. “Hello, Thorin,” he greeted him, polite as always, “how are you doing this fine morning?”</p><p>It would’ve been a fine morning indeed if not for the attack yesterday, but there was no bite of sarcasm in Bilbo’s voice, only tiredness, and Thorin half-smiled wryly. “Could be better. How are you?”</p><p>“Quite the same,” Bilbo replied with so much weariness that Thorin pitied him. He could bet Bilbo had got no sleep at all. “By the way, I talked to my parents earlier. The first shipment of food to Erebor should be ready in two weeks time. Another one to the Iron Hills will follow a week after.”</p><p>Now, wasn’t <em>that</em> a great surprise. “Thank you,” Thorin answered, the gratitude he felt almost making him breathless.</p><p>Bilbo shrugged as if it was nothing. “We owe you this, I suppose.”</p><p>Thorin frowned. In truth, it was hard to determine who owed more to whom. Although Erebor’s position, on the brink of starvation, didn’t improve, it was true that the recent development changed the dynamic in the negotiations. Because of their dire need for protection, the Shire no longer had the upper hand. It wasn’t all politics, though, not for Thorin. “Don’t think that,” he said, but Bilbo wasn’t even looking at him, so Thorin grabbed Bilbo’s forearm, which gained him Bilbo’s full attention. “I will never let anyone get hurt if I can help it.”</p><p>He didn’t say it, he didn’t want to, but he so wished for Bilbo to understand that it was about Frerin, that he would never let someone else come to harm after what he had done to his brother, and as Bilbo watched him closely and nodded, maybe he did understand.</p><p>“I think it is I who should thank you, anyway,” Bilbo told him, looking Thorin in the eye and not taking his forearm away from Thorin’s grasp, “you’ve been very kind to me, recently. I appreciate it very much.”</p><p>Silence fell between them, and it was a hush filled with <em>something</em>, as they didn’t break eye contact. Thorin found himself slowly drowning into the blue of Bilbo’s eyes, blue like the Arkenstone’s light, and there was both gentleness and a hint of steel in there, and Thorin was –</p><p>He looked away, clearing his throat, finally releasing Bilbo’s forearm. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled and, after taking a steadying breath, the changed the subject, “Do you know anything about self-defence?”</p><p>“No, of course not,” Bilbo answered with a huff. “Why would I? We’re peaceful folk, in the Shire. We never seek conflict.”</p><p>“Conflict found you,” Thorin stated grimly. “Your military training must begin at once.” Bilbo opened his mouth, most likely to protest judging by the look on his face, but Thorin interrupted him, “No, don’t fight me on this. You have to know how to defend yourself. Your family too. Our people will teach all of you the basics, at least.”</p><p>“Fine,” Bilbo grumbled.   </p><p>For some time, they said nothing more. Thorin enjoyed the views and the fresh breeze while Bilbo sulked in silence. Finally, as Bilbo looked at the city-state of Dale below, he said, “What’s the Khuzdûl word for a city?”</p><p>“Gabil'itnîn,” Thorin blurted out, surprised.</p><p>“Come again?”</p><p>“Gabil'itnîn” Thorin repeated, and this time, Bilbo looked at his lips, which was <em>distracting</em>.</p><p>“Gabil'itnîn” Bilbo echoed slowly, his pronunciation surprisingly good. Thorin nodded and Bilbo smiled, getting visibly excited. “And the word for a lake?” he asked.</p><p>“Zâram,” Thorin replied. Bilbo repeated after him, again pronouncing the word very well.</p><p>And so it went on for some time. Bilbo asked about words for the various things he could see and repeated after Thorin. Each time Thorin said some new word, Bilbo looked at his lips, and it honestly was a relief when Bilbo finally stopped with this little game and stated, “I think I’m going to like this language.”</p><p>For some reason, warmth bloomed in Thorin’s chest. “Maybe you should teach me some Shire Westeron now,” he said, only half-joking.</p><p>A wide smile lit up Bilbo’s face, then his grin became teasing. "Or Sindarin and Quenya,” he said.</p><p>Thorin scowled immediately, making Bilbo burst into giggles. It was a lovely, contagious sound, and Thorin couldn’t help but laugh as well. Together, they laughed for some time, and Thorin was struck by this sense of familiarity, as if he and Bilbo had known each other for longer than a mere month. It made no <em>sense</em> and he couldn’t understand why he would feel it in the first place.</p><p>He got an answer for this at dinner that day.</p><p>After the whole day of serious and stressful talks, he wasn’t truly in the mood to talk to anyone. His whole family was worn out, truth be told, so the mood at the table wasn’t particularly joyful. They were also disheartened, Bilbo especially, because the investigation, as intense as it was, had led to nowhere so far. Most of the people who helped with the renovation work had denied having any part in the arson. There were only four people left to interrogate, but they had disappeared into nothingness, and the identities they had used for their job applications had turned out to be fake.</p><p>It was a good thing, then, that his family was focused on what Fíli and Kíli were talking about. This allowed Thorin some peace to pull out his phone and check his social media under the table. He was aware that it was rude, but he didn’t have it in him to care. He glanced around and noted that, thankfully, his family weren't looking at him. Bilbo wasn’t as well, as he seemed to be hiding the phone under the table too.</p><p>Thorin only smirked and returned to his own smartphone. He opened the massager app and his heart skipped a beat when he noticed that Will was typing. Thorin had been worried since Will left his last message on read.</p><p>When Will’s reply came, he opened the message immediately.</p><p>
  <em>22 MAY AT 7:50 PM<br/>
How did you know? I’m not all right, actually. I almost lost my family in an accident yesterday. </em>
</p><p>There was a heavy sigh across the table. Thorin looked up to see that Bilbo, not on his phone anymore, turned the attention to Frís sitting beside him. He started a conversation with her, but there was a pained expression on his face and –</p><p>Something in Thorin’s mind <em>clicked</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>AHAHHAHA, IT'S HAPPENING!!</p><p>I can't believe it took me almost 20k words to get here xD </p><p>I'm sorry to say that the next chapter won't appear very soon, I have rl stuff to do :/ Still, I'm gonna begin holidays in a few weeks, updates should be more frequent then! :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 9 - "A big maybe"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dwalin glowered. “Yeah, and I want to be there when you tell Bilbo. <em>That’s</em> gonna be a disaster.” Thorin grimaced at the very thought. “You have to tell him, Thorin. The longer you withhold it from him, the worse it gets.”</p><p>Thorin was aware that Dwalin could be right. <em>However</em>, even if he wanted to take his friend’s advice, Dwalin did not say when <em>exactly</em> Thorin should tell Bilbo.</p><p>Maybe Thorin would be ready for it tomorrow. It was a big maybe, though.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone! &lt;3 A quick thank you to all of you amazing people for your feedback &lt;3 &lt;3 It really keeps me going &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You have to be fuckin’ shittin’ me.”</p><p>Thorin almost growled in frustration as Dwalin kept staring at him as if he had grown a second head. “No, I’m telling you. Everything adds up.”</p><p>Dwalin blinked. Once. Twice. Took a sip of his beer. Put the bottle back on the table. Stared at Thorin with a blank expression for a moment. After that, at last, he spoke, “So let me get this straight. You started developing feelings for your future husband without even meeting him or knowing his true identity. Then he became your future husband because other people decided for you. Then he came here and you pined for him without knowing it’s him you’re pining for, while simultaneously being really annoyed by him in person.” Thorin had to admit it did sound mad, the way Dwalin put it. Still, it was all true, so he nodded. Dwalin huffed a laugh. “That’s.... fuckin’ insane. I can’t imagine this happening to me and Ori.”</p><p>“You and <em>Ori</em>?!” Thorin exclaimed loudly, drawing the attention of many people around.</p><p>The bar was rather crowded, even for a Sunday evening, but it was understandable. Ereborians liked a drink and, especially in stressful times like these, few would say no to a beer or two, even if it was rationed. Despite their kingdom’s difficult situation, which was becoming hard to ignore in every aspect of their lives at this point, everyone in the bar was talking, laughing and enjoying themselves, up to now paying little mind to the fact that the heir to the throne and the captain of the royal guard were among them.</p><p>Thorin and Dwalin didn’t normally attract a lot of attention here, as this place was widely known to be “their” bar. They had become regulars over the years, always meeting up here when they had time to relax and catch up or needed to drink their worries away. The latter was a classic scenario as of late – Thorin would panic, text Dwalin, and wait for his friend to join him at the bar and listen to whatever shit Thorin had got himself into.</p><p>Now was one of those times. Thorin had texted Dwalin right after leaving dinner and soon after that, they had met up at “their” bar. Two hours later, they were three beers deep into the conversation. They might regret drinking tomorrow – Thorin did have to get up early and Dwalin was supposed to oversee the first day of Bilbo’s military training together with Víli – but talking about something as weird as Thorin’s history with “William” was impossible without alcohol.</p><p>“Why didn’t you say anything?” Thorin asked with a grin. Dwalin and Ori seemed like unlikely pair at first, but when Thorin tried to picture it, he realised they were actually a great match.</p><p>Dwalin shrugged. “It’s recent. Wanted to tell you soon anyway.”</p><p>“That’s great.” He clapped Dwalin on the arm, still smiling wide, “Mahal, I’m so happy for you. Ori's great.”</p><p>“That he is,” Dwalin replied with a small, love-struck smile, which Thorin decided not to tease him for.</p><p>Instead, Thorin found something else to tease him for. “Do his brothers know?” he asked.</p><p>“Not yet,” Dwalin grunted, “we won’t tell them anytime soon. I think we should face them with a fait accompli when I braid Ori’s hair.”</p><p>Thorin barked a laugh. “That’s going to be such a disaster. I want to be there when it happens.”</p><p>Dwalin glowered. “Yeah, and I want to be there when you tell Bilbo. <em>That’s</em> gonna be a disaster.” Thorin grimaced at the very thought. “You have to tell him, Thorin. The longer you withhold it from him, the worse it gets.”</p><p>Thorin was aware that Dwalin could be right. <em>However</em>, even if he wanted to take his friend’s advice, Dwalin did not say when <em>exactly</em> Thorin should tell Bilbo.</p><p>Maybe Thorin would be ready for it tomorrow. It was a big maybe, though.</p><p>Dwalin went to order them the last round of beers, so Thorin used this occasion to reply to “Will’s” texts about him almost losing his family.</p><p>
  <em>Just a feeling. </em>
  <br/>
  <em>Are they all right?</em>
  <br/>
  <em>What happened?</em>
</p><p>After sending the messages, he put the phone away with a shaky sigh. He would have to confront “Will” about this.</p><p>Tomorrow, though. Maybe. </p><p>***</p><p>He fired three shots, hitting the target right in the centre each time. When he lowered his weapon and looked back at Dwalin and Víli, both of them were staring at him with gobsmacked expressions. As Bilbo took off his ear defenders, Víli immediately exclaimed,  “Beginner’s luck! Try again!”</p><p>Bilbo rolled his eyes. “Beginner’s luck doesn’t extend to the fourth round of shots,” he muttered under his breath but put the ear defenders back on and focused on the target again. He imagined it was one of the bastards who set fire to the Buckland manor, deprived his family of home and put them in danger. Who hurt his dear Frodo.</p><p>Bilbo pulled the trigger, then did it again and again. He hit the target in the centre each time, which filled him with a dark, ugly sort of satisfaction. As he put the gun down, he thought to himself that he just couldn’t <em>wait</em> when those bastards were found.</p><p>A clap on his arm shook him out of his thoughts. Dwalin was standing next to him with a grin on his face. “Are you sure you’ve never used a gun before?” he asked when Bilbo took off the ear defenders.</p><p>Bilbo huffed a laugh and shook his head. “No, I really haven’t.”</p><p>“Holy shit, Bilbo!” Víli said as he joined them, “Your aim is already almost as good as Dís’s!”</p><p>Bilbo actually shivered at the thought. “She’s terrifying.”</p><p>“She can be when she wants to,” Víli remarked with a fond little smile.</p><p>“How did you even muster up the courage to propose to her?” Bilbo asked him.</p><p>Víli chuckled. “I didn’t.”</p><p>Bilbo blinked. “I’m sorry?”</p><p>“I didn’t propose. She did. Kind of.”</p><p>“What.”</p><p>Víli laughed out loud. “Yeah. At one point during the year of my compulsory military service, my garrison started training with one of the ladies’ unit. We knew that the Princess was among them and you know, as we practised fighting hand-to-hand with the girls, all the guys were intimidated by the fact that they were beating up a royal, so they let Dís win. But I thought to myself that she wouldn’t appreciate anyone going easy on her, so I didn’t. I beat her quite a few times until she learned how to defeat me. In the meantime, we started talking during meals, you know, just normal conversations about this and that. Shortly before the end of our training together, she approached me out of the blue and said, “you’re one of the few men who don’t annoy me. You’re going to be my husband.” Then she left without saying another word.”</p><p>Bilbo burst out laughing. “Oh sweet Yavanna,” he gasped out between giggles, “How did you react?”</p><p>“I thought she was joking,” Vili breathed out, wide-eyed.</p><p>Bilbo was attacked by another laughing fit and he just couldn’t calm down until his stomach began to hurt. The story was too hilarious and similar to how Prim’s engagement had come to be – after a few months of casual friendship with Drogo, she had told him, “Listen, we both know that our families want us to get married. I don’t hate you, you don’t hate me, so let’s give it a try, shall we?”.</p><p>Eru preserve them if Primula and Dís were as alike as Bilbo suspected.</p><p>When Bilbo finally got himself together, the training continued, and Dwalin and Víli went on how to use other kinds of handguns. It was only his first day but Ereborians didn’t beat about the bush, apparently. Dwalin had said that his training in hand-to-hand fighting would take time, so they started with something which didn’t require as many lessons and still would help Bilbo defend himself. Seeing how well he was doing with shooting, he wouldn’t need a lot of practice with guns.</p><p>When they were moving on to the subject of rifles and machine guns, Dwalin suddenly stopped his explaining and looked in the direction of the door. “Hey, Thorin,” he called, turning their attention to the Prince, who had just entered the shooting range, “your Consort can shoot like a hitman!”</p><p>Bilbo almost snorted at being called Thorin’s Consort. Dwalin said it jokingly but it made Bilbo realise just how soon he would actually become Thorin’s husband. The thought still wasn’t welcome, but it wasn’t unwelcome either. It wasn’t a life path he had chosen for myself, so it would always sit ill with him at least a bit. Yet, when Bilbo watched Thorin approaching them, he no longer saw someone extremely rude and arrogant. Even though Bilbo was still very much aware of Thorin’s less admirable qualities, like his bad temper and stubbornness, he had also got to know Thorin as a strong, kind man, and the prospect of marrying him didn’t make him shudder anymore.</p><p>When Thorin stood before them, something akin to fear flashed in his eyes when he looked at Bilbo, but the emotion was gone almost as soon as it appeared. Thorin’s face became a neutral mask, his eyebrows raised slightly. “Really?” he asked, crossing his arms and staring down at Bilbo dubiously.</p><p>By the glint in Thorin’s eye, Bilbo could tell that the other man was just messing with him, so he decided to respond in kind. “Your faith in me is truly uplifting, dear husband,” he answered sweetly.</p><p>Thorin smirked in a way that Bilbo’s idiotic brain labelled as <em>very</em> attractive, while Dwalin and Víli <em>chortled</em>. “The Shire flower has teeth!” Dwalin exclaimed between guffaws.</p><p>Thorin rolled his eyes but otherwise paid no mind to the laughing two and stepped closer to Bilbo. Bilbo’s stupid mind decided that now was the time to point out how much he didn’t mind Thorin’s proximity.</p><p>“Bilbo,” Thorin murmured, “could we talk?”</p><p>“Oh dear, has something happened?”</p><p>“No,” Thorin denied at once, then immediately added, “Yes.” He sighed and brushed a hand over his face. “Let’s talk in private. Your rooms after you finish practice?”</p><p>“Okay?” Bilbo replied, baffled.</p><p>Thorin nodded and stepped away, leaving them with nothing but a quick goodbye.</p><p>Bilbo stared after him, wondering what on earth this was all about. His training continued for another two hours but he couldn’t focus on it. There was a worry creeping up on him; a feeling that he wouldn’t like whatever Thorin wanted to tell him. The feeling only grew with time, transforming into a sense of dread when he found himself sitting in his kitchen with Thorin pacing around the room like a caged wild cat.</p><p>“You’re scaring me,” Bilbo said, “just... out with it.”</p><p>Thorin stopped in his tracks and looked at Bilbo, an expression of such torment on his face that Bilbo fully expected to hear some truly grave confession. Thorin kept staring at Bilbo like that for a few unbearable seconds, his heavy breaths filling the silence. “Bilbo, I...” he began finally, “I know your favourite tea is chamomile tea.”</p><p>Well now, that was... baffling. “O-okay?” Bilbo blinked, not understanding what was so serious about that.</p><p>Thorin sat down on the chair next to him and looked him in the eye intently. “Think. How would I know that?”</p><p>“You... talked to my family?” Bilbo suggested uncertainly, his bafflement only growing.</p><p>Thorin shook his head. “No... it was you,” he answered, “You told me.”</p><p>Bilbo frowned, completely taken aback now, as he recalled no such thing. “You’re not making any sense!”</p><p>Thorin opened his mouth to respond but at that moment, his phone rang. Thorin snatched it out of the pocket of his jacket with an angry scowl. His annoyance visibly lessened upon him seeing the name of the caller.</p><p>“I should take this,” he told Bilbo and left the kitchen.</p><p>As Bilbo was left alone, only an echo of Thorin’s voice talking to someone on the phone reaching his ears, he tried to shake himself out of the state of utter confusion. He just couldn’t understand why Thorin wanted to talk about his favourite tea, of all things, and how come Bilbo didn’t remember telling him that.</p><p>A few minutes passed and Bilbo wasn’t any closer to solving this riddle when Thorin walked back into the room. “Dís called,” he explained, “she and Víli are going to Dale with Fíli and Kíli. The boys are having a sleepover with Bard’s youngest. Dís asked if I wanted to come with them, Bard’s invited them for dinner and apparently you and I are invited too.”</p><p>Bilbo wasn’t acquainted with the royals of Dale, but he didn’t mind getting to know them. Some time away from the Mountain wouldn’t hurt, too. “Why not,” he said with a shrug.</p><p>“Trip to Dale, then,” Thorin replied. “Think about what I said, though. This conversation isn’t over.”</p><p>As if Bilbo could think of anything else now.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Y'all thought?? You really thought??? Hahah, nah, I'm having way too much fun with dragging this out XD </p><p>Pls don't hate me though, it won't be long now. Something major happens in the next chapter. Quite in the way you think, I suppose... ;&gt;</p><p>As to why Bilbo has such a great aim - well, hobbits were like that canonically, so I decided to include it in a way. </p><p>See you next week! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 10 - "Hurtful truth"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>With each clue Thorin provided, Bilbo’s eyes grew wider, until he stared at Thorin with utter shock and disbelief. “Have you...” he choked out, “Have you been spying on me?!”</p><p>“What?! No! Bilbo, <em>you</em> told me!” There was still no comprehension on Bilbo’s face, so Thorin really had to say it. “William,” he began softly, “you told me.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Some angst ahead!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The drive to Dale wasn’t long but it was <em>torture</em>.</p><p>They formed a column like always: a car with security at the front and at the back, with two cars in between. Dís and her family were in the car driving behind them, while Thorin was with Dwalin, Bilbo, and Bofur as the driver. One would think that Bofur should be focused on the road, but that wasn’t the case when Bilbo was there, apparently. The two talked and joked <em>incessantly</em>. It was getting on Thorin’s nerves.</p><p>He had not seen this much of Bilbo’s genuine smile and had not heard him laugh so much during the whole of his stay in Erebor, yet Bofur had already managed that in less than an hour, with Bilbo responding in kind. Bilbo’s jokes ranged from cutting to slightly flirty, which angered Thorin the most.</p><p>That was because he <em>knew</em> Bilbo – he got to know “William” enough to be aware of how, beneath that prim and proper exterior, there hid a grouch who could be snarky in one sentence and flirty in another, yet he always did it in a way somehow endearing. Now that Thorin had the full picture of his future husband, his mind was decided on finding it <em>alluring</em>, of all things.</p><p>And yet, here Bilbo was, letting Bofur see his true self without any reservations, not at all like it had been with Thorin. Thorin couldn't really blame Bilbo for that; Bofur was a kind of man who always put other people at ease.</p><p>Still, he really wished for this drive to be over, especially that Dwalin kept throwing him meaningful side-glances all throughout. He even had had the audacity to text Thorin a message which said “tell him” a few minutes ago. Thank Mahal they weren’t far away from the Dale Palace now. They had already driven into the city-state of Dale, and it wasn’t a long drive from here. The Old Town, where the Dale Palace was placed, was around fifteen minutes away, from what Thorin remembered. He was a frequent visitor to Dale, after all. The royal family of Erebor did have friendly relations with the royal family of Dale and they invited each other over for dinners rather often.</p><p>Dale was a charming place, Thorin had to admit. It made a well-balanced blend between modern and old fashioned architecture, with the skyscrapers and sleek buildings of the New Town seamlessly mingling into the cobbled streets and homes with white walls and red roof tiles of the Old Town. Public gardens and greenery were all over the place, too, which might be what made the smooth transition between the old and the new.</p><p>When they finally arrived at the Palace, Bard welcomed them with open arms and a warm smile. He was a decent, likeable man, similar to Víli in a lot of ways. Bard was grimmer, however, but it came as a surprise to no-one who knew the man’s life history. Your wife’s tragic premature death in an accident which didn’t seem like an accident at all sure did make you grim.</p><p>That had been three years ago. Bard didn’t seem to have moved on, but he had moved forward, the memory of his beloved Carmen always on his mind. His heart hadn’t been stirred by anyone since then, from what Thorin knew, although there had been gossip about Thranduil being a frequent guest to the Palace in the past year, which never failed to amuse Thorin.</p><p>As if Thranduil was physically capable of feeling any positive human emotion.</p><p>It was fortunate that the rumours weren’t true and Thranduil wasn’t here today. Without the King of Mirkwood to annoy the living hell out of Thorin, the meal passed in a pleasant atmosphere. It truly was great to see Bard and his kids again. Five-year-old Tilda was a bouncing ball of excitement at the prospect of having the sleepover with her friends, while nine-year-old Sigrid and eleven-year-old Bain attached themselves to Biblo’s sides, listening to his stories about the Shire.</p><p>After dinner was over, Fíli, Kíli and Tilda darted off to play, while Bard invited the rest for a walk in the Palace's gardens. The place looked impressive, especially in the light of the sun which was beginning to set, and Thorin decided on quiet contemplation of the surroundings, walking a short distance behind everyone else. At some point, Bilbo joined him at his side. The two walked in silence but as soon as the others disappeared behind the corner, Bilbo immediately ceased his walk and said, “I thought about what you told me.” Thorin’s heart stopped for a moment. Bilbo took a deep breath and went on with an air of certainty, “When I fainted, I must’ve talked to myself before I regained consciousness. That’s how you know, isn’t it?”</p><p>Thorin had to use all his strength not to facepalm. He did have to hide his face in his hands, though. “No, Bilbo, no,” he groaned out, “that’s completely not it.”</p><p>“Then I don’t understand,” came Bilbo’s response.</p><p>With a heavy sigh, he lifted his head up and looked at Bilbo’s very confused face. Mahal, how much he did <em>not</em> want to say it. “I know that in your PhD,” he told Bilbo instead, “you focus on Sindarin and Quenya versions of the poem about the fall of Gondolin and their two available translations. I know that your nephew went through severe pneumonia when he was three. Your mother is adventurous and your father is exactly the opposite. Your sister loves indie rock.”</p><p>With each clue Thorin provided, Bilbo’s eyes grew wider, until he stared at Thorin with utter shock and disbelief. “Have you...” he choked out, “Have you been spying on me?!”</p><p>“What?! No! Bilbo, <em>you</em> told me!” There was still no comprehension on Bilbo’s face, so Thorin really had to say it. “William,” he began softly, “you told me.”</p><p>“What.”</p><p>“Will, it’s me,” he admitted, a small hope for a joyful reaction rising within him, “Tom.”</p><p>Bilbo started shaking his head frantically, taking a step back. “N-no, that’s. That’s impossible! You can’t be –”</p><p>“I am,” Thorin insisted. He took out his phone, unlocked it and handed it to Bilbo.“Take it. Open messenger.”</p><p>Bilbo frowned but took the phone. He eyed Thorin with suspicion, then finally tapped at the icon of the app. When the list of conversations came into view, among which the one with “William Underhill” was at the top, Bilbo let out a quiet gasp. His posture went rigid with shock, which made the phone fall from his hands. Thorin managed to catch it before it hit the ground.  </p><p>“Do you believe me now?” he asked as he straightened up.</p><p>There was a look of sheer horror on Bilbo’s face, which crushed any tentative hope Thorin had under a wave of awful coldness.</p><p>It had been stupid of him to think that revealing this would be a happy occasion. Of course Bilbo would be horrified to find that Thomas was actually a bad-tempered crown prince. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that Bilbo would want him only for the “Thomas” part, not the whole of him.</p><p>Something tugged in his chest at the thought, the pain of it making him breathless. He hadn’t imagined revealing the truth to be so hurtful, but maybe that was the price of crashing with reality.  </p><p>“You can’t be him,” Bilbo whispered, “You can’t be... No. I.” He cleared his throat. “I need air. I’m sorry, I – forgive me.” With that, he walked away briskly.</p><p>Thorin let him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>23k words, everyone. In a typical me fashion, it took me 23k words to get here. </p><p>How much until the end? Wish I knew! The initial outline I had for this story went to hell long ago, and I have very little insight into what happens next. The only thing I know for certain is that the next chapter is a long, angsty Bilbo POV, so it's gonna take time to write. Can't promise an update next week, but in two weeks for sure!</p><p>What do you think of this story so far? :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 11 - "The ache"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eru and all the Valar be damned, he was <em>in love</em>.</p><p>Bilbo let out a hollow, mirthless laugh. It was just like him to be that much of an idiot and understand this only now, when his intended barely even <em>looked</em> at him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Don’t you just love it when health problems pop out of nowhere and won’t let you live your life? Ugh. I somehow produced this (surprisingly longish) chapter but I apologize if it's not great, I just didn't have the strength to try my best. But hey... at least it's here finally, yeah???? </p><p>Now, watch out, dear loves! Here comes the angst express! CHOO CHOO EVERYBODY, CHOO CHOO!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bilbo ran. He had to run, away from this.</p><p>Blood pounded in his ears as he tried to wrap his head around what Thorin had just told him. How could it be possible? The likelihood of this was so small that Bilbo still couldn’t believe it. Thorin just couldn’t be Thomas, there was <em>no way</em> he was. It made no <em>sense</em>.</p><p>Except, the thought hit Bilbo like a bucked of ice-cold water, it actually <em>did</em>. He began recalling all his conversations with Thorin and Thomas and, as each part of the puzzle started falling into place, his head was spinning more and more.</p><p>Oh no. Oh dear.</p><p>He had to sit down. Thank Yavanna for small blessings, he had stumbled upon a small charming fountain with a few benches around it when he had been wandering around the garden (or running away from Thorin in a daze of shock, to be precise).</p><p>The garden of the Dale Palace was lovely, Bilbo had found, the plants a tasteful blend of wild-growing and carefully tended to. The place had a lot of charm to it especially now. Sun would set soon, and so the solar-powered garden lamps started producing the cold, white light. The fountain was illuminated with such light as well, and everything around looked almost magical. Now that Bilbo took note of his surroundings, he couldn’t tear his eyes away, which was good. The contemplating took his mind off <em>other matters</em>... but not for long.</p><p>Soon, the staggering thought crept back to his mind. Thomas, the sweet and caring man with whom Bilbo had been shamelessly flirting and opening his heart to, and Thorin, the stern and proud prince whom Bilbo could barely stand at the beginning, were <em>actually</em> the same person.</p><p>What was Bilbo even supposed to... do with this? He had never been any good at dealing with unexpectedness, yet his life had become a string of very much unwelcome surprises recently. Had had <em>enough</em>, thank you very much. He had also foolishly assumed that nothing could beat the surprise of the recent attack on his family. Oh well. This was the absolute cherry on top.</p><p>Eru, how he <em>loathed</em> surprises.</p><p>He hid his face in his hands and, a few moments later, life slapped him across the face with yet another surprise.</p><p>“Hello?” an unfamiliar male voice said to his right.</p><p>Bilbo startled. As he turned to the direction from which the melodious voice greeted him, he beheld King Thranduil of Mirkwood himself. The man looked as if he had just left a runway of a fashion show in that (what Bilbo presumed to be) Gucci suit, light turquoise in colour with many floral patterns on it. On anyone else, the suit would’ve looked atrocious, but Thranduil wore it well. His long, pale blond hair stood out against the fabric, the colour of which also brought out his eyes.</p><p>Thranduil looked like a vision of sorts, really, standing among the garden lamps, the illuminated water of the fountain directly behind him. For a moment, Bilbo was struck dumb by the sight, and stared at the King of Mirkwood for just long enough to make it awkward. Finally, he shook himself out of his amazement and cleared his throat. He stood up from his seat and bowed to Thranduil. “<em>Your Majesty</em>,” he said in Sindarin, “<em>Well met.</em>”</p><p>Thranduil inclined his head with a slightly stunned expression on his face, which made Bilbo proud. He had always enjoyed surprising the Sindarin people with his knowledge of their language. “<em>Well met indeed, Prince Bilbo Baggins</em>,” the King answered, “<em>May I sit with you?</em>”</p><p>“<em>Yes, please</em>,” Bilbo said, gesturing at the bench, “<em>It would be my pleasure</em>.”</p><p>Thranduil sat down, and so did Bilbo. A bit of uncomfortable silence followed, and Bilbo wondered what on earth the Mirkwood King was doing here in the first place. Sure, Prim had told him a lot about how people were “shipping” Thranduil and Bard. Bilbo had to admit he definitely saw the appeal – two single fathers, left alone with their children after tragic deaths of their wives, finding understanding and consolation in each other, even though their relationship could be frowned upon. Gossip was one thing, though, and meeting the King of Mirkwood in the Dale Palace at such a late hour was another. Bilbo was curious whether Thranduil had been here the whole time of their stay and just avoided them or had just arrived. The implications of  “I didn’t see you at dinner, Your Majesty” would be too rude, however, so Bilbo remained quiet, silently praying for Thranduil to resume the conversation.</p><p>“<em>I’ve arrived a short while ago</em>,” the King spoke finally, kind enough to explain himself, “<em>and I always like to take a stroll in the gardens to rest after the long travel. I was aware that Bard hosted guests from Erebor but I didn’t expect to find anyone here.</em>”</p><p>Bilbo barely stifled a laugh and replied, “<em>I don’t think Ereborians have much appreciation for gardens, even for one as fine as this</em>.”</p><p>Thranduil chuckled. “<em>Indeed.</em> <em>I believe you will have a positive influence on Erebor. Finally someone with sense next to the throne, I should say</em>.” </p><p>This time, Bilbo laughed out loud. “<em>I thank you, Your Majesty</em>.”  </p><p>Bilbo fell silent, trying to chase away the thoughts which were brought about by Thranduil’s words of him standing next to Erebor’s throne. Sweet Yavanna, how was he supposed to do that? Erebor was so much <em>more</em> than the Shire, and so different. Not for the first time, he doubted whether he would manage to face up to the position of Thorin’s husband. He did want to live up to the role, truly, but would he? Especially now, after this whole reveal. Where did he and Thorin even <em>stand</em> now?</p><p>The melody of Thranduil’s voice shook him out of his anxious thoughts. “<em>Forgive me for being so forward,” </em>the King said cautiously,<em> “but you seem troubled</em>.”</p><p>Bilbo smiled wryly, looking down at his hands. “<em>Why, yes,” </em>he admitted<em>, “I am.</em>”</p><p>“<em>Perhaps I could be of help?</em>” Thranduil offered.</p><p>Bilbo looked at Thranduil sharply, surprised. The King didn’t strike him as a very emotional person, so he doubted Thranduil would be able to help him. Still, he could see Thanduil’s genuine concern and decided to seize the kindness. “<em>Well, I...</em>” he trailed off. How did he even <em>begin</em> to explain this? He sighed. “<em>It’s a matter of the heart.</em>”</p><p>“<em>Ah,” </em>responded slowly. The King stared into the distance, a far-away look in his eyes. “<em>Oh to have your heart full of love, both love received and love to give. It’s a state to be cherished, my life has taught me.” </em>Pain twisted his features but he carried on, <em>“And the state to pursue, even if it’s not easy.</em>” He was <em>definitely</em> talking about Bard now, and a thought passed Bilbo’s mind whether he should tell Prim about this or not. “<em>Take my words however you wish,</em>” the King went on,<em> “a bit of advice, a pointless sharing of thoughts. Just know that, no matter what problem you’ve found yourself in, the feeling of your heart being full is worth chasing.</em>”</p><p>Bilbo nodded slowly, trying to think of what filled his heart with love. The answers came to him quickly: it was his family, his university work, the Shire, caring for his people and also...Thomas. Meaning Thorin. Bilbo huffed under his breath. Goodness, they really needed to talk, didn’t they? “<em>Thank you, Your Majesty,</em>” he replied to Thranduil, “<em>I really appreciate this</em>.”</p><p>Thranduil only hummed in response, and wasn’t it a lovely sound. His voice was almost as beautiful as Thorin’s. Almost.</p><p>The shared moment of earnestness soon passed and their conversation turned to more or less polite nothings. Thranduil inquired about the Shire, then Bilbo asked about Mirkwood. He perhaps had too many questions but he couldn’t help it. He had always found the Mirkwood people to be a fascinating lot. They were a rich nation like Ereborians, their wealth coming from the trade of luxury goods and sell of high-tech know-how. For all their technological advancement, however, they were also very passionate about Mirkwood, the primaeval forest that took up three-quarters of their country’s territory. It had once been a part of one massive wilderness that ranged from what was now Fangorn, through Lothlórien, to Mirkwood. That had been before industrialisation began, though, and the three forest complexes were now the precious remains what had been lost. Thus, each of the forests was guarded fiercely and tended to with care, Mirkwood perhaps most of all.</p><p>The Mirkwood folks also drank. A lot. The amounts of Dorwinion wine they imported were surprising, to say the least. Bilbo had heard Ereborians joking about how the “tree-shaggers” were just a bunch of alcoholics. If that were to be true, the Mirkwood folks wouldn’t live as long as they did. It was rather common among them to live up to one hundred years old in relatively good health. How they managed that remained a mystery.</p><p>Bilbo’s conversation with Thranduil went on for some time, the King answering his enthusiastic questions with the barest hint of a smile. Their talk was at one point interrupted when Bilbo’s phone rang.</p><p>It was Thorin calling.</p><p>Bilbo excused himself and walked a short distance away. He answered the phone, his hands trembling slightly.</p><p>“We’re waiting for you at the Front Gate,” Thorin said the moment Bilbo picked up, his tone commanding, “come here as quickly as you can, we have to get back.” He hung up immediately.</p><p>Bilbo blinked in bafflement. Thorin had never really <em>ordered</em> him to do something. Though, to be fair, Bilbo could understand why Thorin would be angry with him, after Bilbo had run away from him like he had. He really needed to apologize.</p><p>Bilbo walked back to where Thranduil was still sitting and said, “<em>I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but I must go.”</em></p><p>Thranduil inclined his head graciously. “<em>Of course. I’m looking forward to working with you in the future, Your Highness.</em>”</p><p>Bilbo smiled. “<em>Likewise</em>.”</p><p>They exchanged the traditional Sindarin goodbyes and Bilbo was off into the half-dark of the garden in the evening. Finding his way out took him quite some time and when he finally reached the Front Gate, he was rather out of breath because of brisk walking. His heart was pounding too, perhaps in larger part due to nervousness.</p><p>He noticed the Ereborian cars and a group of people standing next to them. He didn’t see Dís and Víli there (they were staying Dale for the night, after all), nor Bard and his children. Bilbo suddenly realised how terribly rude he had been, disappearing into the garden and not saying goodbye to any of them. Goodness, he would have to apologise for that too.</p><p>At least Thorin was with the drivers and the security guards. Almost the moment Bilbo spotted him in the group, the two of them looked each other in the eye. Thorin visibly tensed and immediately focused his attention on Dwalin next to him.</p><p>Bilbo pursed his lips, feeling awful again. Taking a deep breath, he decided that he would apologise to Thorin right now. With this resolution, he approached the group with an apologetic smile and said, “I’m sorry for the wait, everyone.” He then walked up to Thorin and murmured, “a moment on the side, please?”</p><p>“Fine,” Thorin grunted.</p><p>Bilbo led Thorin a short distance away from the others. When he was sure that they were far enough and the rest wouldn’t hear them, he turned to Thorin and said, “About earlier, I–”</p><p>“Don’t worry,” Thorin cut in, “I’ll go back in the other car.”</p><p>“No, you don’t –” Bilbo began, but Thorin already started walking away. Bilbo grabbed him by the arm, turning Thorin back to him. “Will you listen to me?” he asked, almost pleading.</p><p>“I don’t think there’s anything left for us to discuss,” Thorin replied harshly, then looked at something behind Bilbo and froze for a moment. Bilbo turned around to see all the drivers and security guards observing them. “Let’s not make a scene,” Thorin hissed and brushed past him.</p><p>The words hurt Bilbo more than they should.</p><p>Here he was, trying to sort this out, while Thorin worried about appearances. It wasn’t a pleasant reminder but perhaps it was needed. After all, they were royalty – they always were in the public eye. Rarely could they have anything only to themselves. Maybe Bilbo couldn’t even have this, both Thomas and Thorin, only to himself.  </p><p>They did get back to Erebor separately.</p><p>Too busy nursing his own hurt, Bilbo didn’t try to approach Thorin again that day. He wouldn’t even have the chance anyway – Thorin went off to somewhere without a word the moment the cars’ engines stopped in Erebor.</p><p>After the awful Monday, the situation continued for the rest of the week. Bilbo didn’t get much free time in the first place, with the negotiations and his training going on at the same time, but he still tried to talk to Thorin every chance he got. Thorin, however, avoided him with masterful skill. Whenever Bilbo approached him in public, Thorin made some short, very distanced small talk, then quickly excused himself, always having some “duties to attend to”. He barely even looked at Bilbo at all. When Bilbo tried coming to his rooms, Thorin either wasn’t there or didn’t open the door.</p><p>Each time Thorin avoided him or refused to even spare him a glance, Bilbo recalled his conversation with Thranduil and thought to himself that what he was experiencing on those awful occasions was the exact opposite of the heart full of love. Instead of filling with warmth, his chest was hollow and cold.</p><p>Bilbo just wanted it to end. Yavanna, he so wished for the ache to <em>stop</em>. Thorin just didn’t want to talk about this, though, and Bilbo genuinely <em>didn’t understand</em>. Thorin had every right to be angry at Bilbo for running away from him after the confession, but was it a reason enough for such behaviour? Bilbo racked his brain, trying to recall whether he had said or done something during that conversation which could hurt Thorin more, yet the memory was fogged with the absolute shock he had felt back then.</p><p>All his efforts led him precisely nowhere, and his fiancé (whom now Bilbo had the full picture of and knew him to be sweet, caring, strong, kind, and really bloody handsome too) still couldn’t stand to be in the same room with him.</p><p>After a few days of the ongoing misery, Bilbo was truly fed up. It had to be showing because, during tea with Frís on Friday, the Queen asked, “Is something wrong, Bilbo?”</p><p>Bilbo pursed his lips, considering whether he should even tell anything of this to Frís. In the end, he decided that perhaps she would give him some advice, so he admitted, “Yes, I suppose, it is.”</p><p>She set down her teacup on the coffee table and looked at him with concern and undivided attention, “What happened?”</p><p>Bilbo smiled despite his foul mood. The Queen was really sweet beneath her ice-cold exterior. She had already invited him for tea twice this week, after having been informed that tea was important in the Shire. Ereborians were mostly coffee people but the Queen made the effort and tried to make him feel at home. Bilbo suspected that their teatime had come to be because Frís wanted to make him feel better after the attack. He appreciated her efforts anyway, whatever the reason.  </p><p>“I did something,” Bilbo said, “and now Thorin won’t talk to me. I think I hurt him.” Anger flashed formidably in Frís’s eyes, and Bilbo hastened to add, “Unintentionally, I swear! And I do want to explain everything.” He let out a heavy breath. “But Thorin just won’t let me. He avoids me at all costs.” He looked at Fris, silently pleading for some advice, <em>anything</em>, to help him.</p><p>Frís sighed. “We did notice that things have become... strained, between you two. We decided not to intervene for now and let you two sort it out.” She took a sip of her tea and asked, “do you want to talk about what happened in more detail?”</p><p>Bilbo felt himself go pale. The very thought of having to explain everything to Thorin’s mother made him slightly nauseous. “I’d rather not,” he replied faintly.</p><p>“All right,” Frís said, her lips twisted in displeasure. The grimace soon disappeared, though, and was replaced by a look of compassion. “Thorin does get like this, when he’s hurt,” she explained, “he hides under all his defences.” Bilbo nodded because he <em>knew</em> that. “Thomas” had told him about that once upon a time. “I think you should try to be patient with him,” the Queen advised, “and let him come to you when he’s ready.”</p><p>Well. Bilbo considered himself to be a patient enough person. However, as Thorin persisted in his avoidance, Bilbo’s patience began running thin. On Sunday, after the whole week of the continuing hurt and confusion, he decided that wine would fill and warm him up quite nicely, for a moment. Obtaining a bottle wasn’t an easy task, with all food rationed, but the royal kitchens did have small storage of fine Dorwinion wine, given to the royal family as a gift from Thranduil some time ago.</p><p>Bilbo had to admit that he now understood the fondness the Mirkwood people held for the wine. It was <em>good</em>. So good, in fact, that Bilbo felt almost guilty about not sharing it with anyone. He did entertain the thought of inviting Ori but the idea fell through in the end. A lonely evening with a bottle of wine was exactly the pity party he needed to throw for himself.</p><p>In the beginning, the celebration of his misery wasn’t all that bad; he simply enjoyed the drink and watched some YouTube videos on his phone. Yet, when he was half the bottle down and the liquor was starting to get to his head, this form of entertainment was no longer to his liking.</p><p>He put his phone in his pocket and started planning the next way of enjoyment, mindlessly toying with the engagement ring on his finger. The memory of Thorin’s large hands almost engulfing his own came unbidden, the pleasant feel of Thorin’s rough, warm palms almost imprinted on his mind for some reason. Recalling that moment made his heart flutter and all of a sudden, Bilbo realised he was in love.</p><p>Eru and all the Valar be damned, he was <em>in love</em>.</p><p>Bilbo let out a hollow, mirthless laugh. It was just like him to be that much of an idiot and understand this only now, when his intended barely even <em>looked</em> at him.</p><p>He felt a painful tug behind his sternum and rubbed at the place with the back of his hand. The ache soon subsided and was replaced with the familiar, awful sensation of cold hollowness in his chest. A lump started forming in his throat, so he took a sip of wine to swallow it down. He had to have quite some more of the drink to fight against the tightening of his throat.</p><p>Bilbo finished the bottle rather quickly, and the alcohol started affecting him in full. The world was spinning just a bit, in that pleasant way, which allowed him to ignore the major issue. He briskly got up, put the glass in the sink and the bottle in the bin, then went to the bedroom and grabbed one of his favourite Quenya books. He lay down on the bed comfortably and started reading. The enjoyment of the book didn’t last long, however, as his drunken state made it hard to focus on anything.</p><p>Given up on doing anything intellectually challenging, he put the book away and took his phone instead. Mindless surfing through social media apps was just the thing he would marginally enjoy right now. He also checked his text and frowned when he realised that Prim hadn’t responded to him since midday. He would have to contact Drogo soon if this didn’t change.</p><p>Inevitably, Bilbo also checked his messenger and, sure enough, the conversation with “Thomas Oakenshield” was there to taunt him. He opened it and scrolled through their recent messages, the last of them being about how Bilbo almost lost his family. He had described the incident in such a way that “Thomas” wouldn’t connect it to the fire at Buckland Manor.</p><p>Bilbo snorted. It had been in vain, in the end. Thorin had figured it out somehow anyway. He wondered what exactly gave Thorin the final clue, and when that had been exactly. It wasn’t like he would find out soon, Bilbo thought to himself bitterly, if ever.</p><p>He kept scrolling, the messages getting older and more earnest. Before the marriage was arranged, their messages were really quite heated, yet it seemed so natural. Bilbo had always thought that he and Thomas just “clicked” and goodness, how he missed their genuine conversations. In truth, he just missed Thorin, really, all long. That beautiful man, who could be his but actually couldn’t.  </p><p>Bilbo was immensely tempted to send “I miss you” to “Thomas” but the moment the idea appeared in his mind, he suddenly felt sick. He tossed the phone away and lay on the bed with his eyes closed, taking in long, calming breaths. A bottle of wine wasn’t much for him at all but he still felt nauseous.</p><p>Right then, the doorbell rang.</p><p>Bilbo sat up abruptly, which wasn’t a smart move with nausea, and checked the time on his phone. It was ten o’clock in the evening. Yavanna’s gardens, what could a visit at this hour even be about?</p><p>He didn’t want to deal with <em>yet another</em> surprise. Ignoring the second doorbell, Bilbo waited for the person to go away. Obviously, as his luck would have it, they didn’t; there was some vague noise coming from the entrance, as if they invited themselves in.</p><p>Bilbo grumbled angrily and got up, ready to go there and give the person a piece of his mind. However, the sound of pitter-patter, like tiny feet on the floor, stopped him in his tracks. A second later, he heard something so unexpected that his breath caught in his throat.</p><p>“Uncle?” Frodo’s voice called loudly, from the direction of the kitchen, “Uncle, where are you?”</p><p>Bilbo was struck dumb, thinking to himself that he surely was hallucinating. Frodo’s voice called him again and again, so finally, he responded, “Frodo?”</p><p>The pitter-patter was getting louder and louder, and at last, Frodo really, actually, <em>physically</em> appeared in the doorway. The boy wore no shoes, and although it was clear he had bandages under his socks, he seemed overall healthy and whole, a happy grin on his face.</p><p>Frodo bolted in his direction and quickly collided with Bilbo’s body. “Surprise, uncle!” he cried as he hugged his uncle’s legs.</p><p>Bilbo almost sobbed. He crouched down and hugged his nephew close to his chest, not letting him go until the boy started wriggling out from his embrace.</p><p>“Frodo,” he all but chocked out, “how are you here?”</p><p>“I came on a plane!” Frodo exclaimed with a smile, “I could see clouds <em>below</em> us! But we were flying for so <em>long</em>, uncle! I was so bored I fell asleep. Then granny said that there are two boys here that I can play with! Where are they, uncle? Can I meet them? Pleeaasee?”</p><p>Bilbo laughed, a bit wetly, at Frodo’s excited babbling. “Why, dear boy,” he answered, “I think that at this hour they’re–”</p><p>“Frodo?” Drogo voice called, interrupting Bilbo.</p><p>“I’m here, daddy!” Frodo shouted.</p><p> A few moments later, Drogo walked into the room, his characteristic wide blue eyes, which his son had from him, twinkling happily. Primula showed up right after him, with her ever-impressive shock of raven-black curls, just like their mother’s, and sparkling dark green eyes, just like their father’s.</p><p>The thought that the attack on their home had happened merely eight days ago hit Bilbo like a truck, and he rushed to hug them. When the three of them embraced, his parents entered the room as well, and Bilbo was so surprised at the sight of them that he let out a truly ridiculous, albeit joyous, sound.</p><p>Bilbo greeted his parents in a daze, still not believing that this was not some cruel dream conjured up by his wine-fogged brain. “What are you all doing here?” he breathed out.</p><p>“The first shipment of food arrived at Erebor a week early,” his father explained, “we came with it.”</p><p>“But <em>why</em>?” Bilbo pressed on.</p><p>“Gandalf insisted that we should,” Prim replied.</p><p>Bilbo blinked. “I don’t understand.”</p><p>The adults tensed and exchanged serious looks, confusing Bilbo further.</p><p>“This is a discussion for another time,” his mother said, glancing down at Frodo pointedly and laying a hand on the boy’s arm. Frodo was watching them, clearly picking up on their distress, his eyes observant like in the case with all children.</p><p>Bilbo nodded slowly. “I see.” He cleared his throat. “Tea, anyone?” he offered, and his whole family smiled.</p><p>Bilbo smiled back, his chest finally filled with warmth.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Gotta have some (alleged) Barduil, as a treat! :D</p><p>This is the suit I imagine Thranduil is wearing: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/fe/51/01/fe5101107140c91636d09d2d2b75f1c8.jpg<br/>He would totally rock it. He's the Middle Earth's fashion king.</p><p>I imagine Primula's hair is like the hair of the actress Sabrina Ouazani. In my mind, Prim has different facial features and isn't as stunning as Sabrina, but damn, those curls, man. Those curls.</p><p>I feel so bad for Bilbo in this chapter. Boyy, that was a LOT of angstiness. At least he won't be so very sad anymore, now that his family is there with him!</p><p>This story is certainly close to finish (perhaps 3 more chapters until the end) but it will take me some time. I’m so sorry, I’m so bad at regular updating that I hate myself for it, but I just don’t feel great rn. But enough of my whining! What do you think of this chapter? :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 12 - "A good idea"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Of course,” Thráin replied, “It’s not your fault, not anyone’s. Once again, we must trust Gandalf’s judgement.”</p><p>Thorin tried to ignore the way everyone looked between him and Bilbo. Gandalf’s judgement, indeed. Just look where it got all of them. Thorin simply couldn’t wait for yet another thing to go wrong because of the man’s genius ideas.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a quick thank you for your feedback! &lt;3 You comments keep me going :3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There were more people sitting at the table this evening than usual, and Thorin barely noticed the missing Frerin’s chair. He was too curious about their new guests, who had arrived yesterday night, and watched them with interest.</p><p>Bilbo’s family were very much like him – perfectly polite, smiley, hiding behind their manners to the point of seeming unassuming. That much he figured out during the talks today, within the first hour or so of meeting them. Now, Thorin was determined to get past their overall not impressive exterior and see who they truly were, but it wasn’t an easy task. Their Shire guests were all pleasantries during the dinner, as they were during the day’s negotiations, and thus revealed very little about who they actually were.</p><p>Thorin could understand it, though. Their manners and reserve granted relative peace – everybody was getting along well enough, although there was actually one pair which seemed to be getting on like a house on fire: Dís and Primula. They sat together with their children, Frodo in Primula’s lap while Kíli in Dís’s, Fíli in between them. The two women chattered away together with their boys, paying little mind to the rest. There was a certain ease in their interaction and in the way they smiled at each other, which made Thorin realise that his sister and sister-in-law soon-to-be must’ve been talking to each other before they met in person.</p><p>Sweet Mahal.</p><p>Dís wasn’t really the one to like someone easily. She rarely let her guard down around strangers and never trusted them until she had a good reason to. The fact that she took to Princess Primula so quickly could mean only one thing – the two had to be a lot alike, which did <em>not</em> bode well.</p><p>Thorin was suddenly curious what Bilbo thought about the situation. He must’ve noticed it, too. Thorin risked a glance at Bilbo and the sight of his fiancé glowing with happiness as he talked to his mother made him both melt and ache.</p><p>Bilbo was beautiful like this, when he didn’t need him for anything at all.</p><p>He turned his gaze away and chided himself for looking at all. This is why he had been avoiding his fiancé with all his might for the past week – gazing at Bilbo caused a painful tug of longing in his chest, while talking to him meant exposure to his proximity; to the temptation of kissing him, just this once. He couldn’t do that, though, so hid away from Bilbo as much as he could. Thorin even pretended not to be in his rooms every time Bilbo rang the doorbell, the memory of his horrified face back in the garden stopping him from opening the door. He had no wish of hearing the amicable rejection and the words “we can still be friends”, not when he knew what he had lost so very well.</p><p>Suddenly, there was the sound of Bilbo’s lovely laughter. Thorin looked, he just <em>had to</em>, and witnessed Bilbo in the middle of a giggling fit. He laughed together with his parents until he hid his face in his hands, and Thorin’s heart fluttered.</p><p>It was at this moment that he understood he was in love. He was <em>in love</em>.</p><p>A wave of awful coldness started spreading through him, and the realisation almost made his head spin. He barely registered what was happening in the room – Balin had appeared to take the three young princes to the living room, as the Shire royal family had requested before dinner, so that the adults could discuss some issues. It hardly mattered. Thorin was trying to calm down the turmoil within him, to no avail. The thought kept taunting him – he was in love with Bilbo Baggins, that charming, intelligent, capable man. The man whom Thorin knew and adored every part of, while Bilbo... didn’t have the same feelings about all of Thorin.</p><p>“Thorin,” Víli next to him murmured, “are you all right?”</p><p>He cleared his throat. “I’m fine,” he replied quietly, not looking at his brother-in-law. He already knew that Víli didn’t believe him. Thorin took a steadying breath and, using all his willpower, focused solely on his surroundings.</p><p>His father sighed wearily but quickly regained his composure, put on the “ruler face”, as Thorin and Dís liked to call it, and spoke, “How about we address the oliphant in the room?”</p><p>All the Shire guests tensed but nodded, and Queen Belladonna answered, “Of course.”</p><p>“I want to assure you that your sudden arrival is very much welcome,” Thorin’s mother said and the rest of the family nodded along. Their unexpected coming yesterday with the massive shipment of food was a true blessing. When Thorin had found out about it, he hadn’t felt a joy so strong in a long time. “But,” Frís went on, “we still don’t understand why you’re here.”</p><p>“Yes, we apologize for that,” King Bungo replied, “Gandalf was adamant that we share only as little information as possible until we come here and are without any outsider in the room.”</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dís asked with a frown.</p><p>Bungo sighed. “It’s rather... delicate information. Gandalf believes he’s close to finding the people who destroyed our home. Not just the four who actually set fire to it but the whole team who planned everything.”</p><p>Thorin and his family exchanged stunned looks – this was surprisingly quick.</p><p>“He said that the Shire might not be safe for us at least for the next month,” Drogo added, “When the Orcs find out that the team was discovered, and seeing that we’re not backing away from the alliance, they may strike again.”</p><p>“I’d rather we didn’t stay for so long,” Bungo said, “but the minimum three weeks in Erebor seems unavoidable. We’re truly sorry for the inconvenience.”</p><p>“Of course,” Thráin replied, “It’s not your fault, not anyone’s. Once again, we must trust Gandalf’s judgement.”</p><p>Thorin tried to ignore the way everyone looked between him and Bilbo. Gandalf’s judgement, indeed. Just look where it got all of them. Thorin simply couldn’t wait for yet another thing to go wrong because of the man’s <em>genius</em> ideas.</p><p>Belladonna visibly forced a smile. “There are some perks to this situation, at least,” she said cheerfully, “The talks and the wedding preparations will be much easier.”</p><p>Thorin held back a wince at the mention of the wedding.</p><p>Víli shrugged slightly. “We will get to know each other better, too.”</p><p>“Ah, actually,” Dís cut in, “about that. Prim and I have an idea.” She looked at Primula and the two <em>giggled</em>. “We should play some games together!” Dís announced the idea with a proud smile. “We were thinking, perhaps... Monopoly?”</p><p>Everyone but the two women groaned out loud.</p><p>“Sweetheart, please,” Thráin said pleadingly, “anything but Monopoly. <em>Anything</em>.”</p><p>“What’s wrong with Uno?” Bilbo asked Prim with a bemused frown.</p><p>Frís clasped her hands together loudly. “Yes, Uno! That’s perfect.”</p><p>Everybody except Primula and Dís seconded the suggestion, and so, it was decided that they would play Uno. The dinner soon ended and everyone left the dining room to join the boys in the living room. As everyone was walking through the door, Thorin and Dís happened to be the last ones to exit. They followed the rest through the corridor in silence, at least until Dís spoke in Khuzdul under her breath.</p><p>“<em>Cowards,</em>” she grumbled.</p><p>Thorin had to elbow her in the side. “<em>There will be time for Monopoly</em>,” he told her quietly, also not wishing to be overheard, “<em>we</em> <em>don’t hate each other yet. Why speed it up</em>?”</p><p><em>“Some of us already do</em>,” Dís answered. He frowned at her, humming questioningly. “<em>You and Bilbo,</em>” she clarified, a worried expression on her face, “<em>What’s going on?</em>”</p><p>Thorin clenched his jaw. “<em>None of your business</em>,” he ground out.</p><p>She stopped in her tracks and grabbed him by the arm. Dís looked around and, seeing that the rest disappeared behind the corner, spoke at a normal volume, “<em>It’s certainly my business when my brother is so miserable.</em>”</p><p>“<em>Leave it</em>,” he growled, freeing himself from her grasp with a furious tug. “<em>Just this once, for the love of Mahal,</em>” he roared, “<em>fucking leave it!</em>” Dís stared at him with wide eyes and a horrible feeling twisted the inside of his chest. He hated when he lost his temper and Dís was at the receiving end of his anger. “<em>I’m sorry</em>,” he mumbled and walked away briskly.</p><p>His sour mood didn’t improve greatly over the evening. His recent realisation sat heavy in his gut and he couldn’t focus on the game, trying not to let his gaze linger on Bilbo. The game in itself was wild and engaging, as it was wont to be with so many players, but the cards weren’t kind to Thorin. He won none of the rounds they played, which was also in large part thanks to Dís, who sat next to him and was vicious all throughout, but he could admit he deserved it.</p><p>Still, it had been indeed a good idea to spend the evening like this. Everyone had fun, and even Thorin enjoyed himself a bit, despite everything. Yet, as walked to his rooms to retire for the night, gloomy thoughts about his future husband slowly drowned out any remains of his high spirits.</p><p>Out of the blue, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Thorin took it out and, to his great surprise, saw a message from Gandalf. When he opened the text, it read:</p><p>
  <em>I found them.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And now what??? </p><p>Haha, I have very little idea! I only know that the next chapter is going to be a long one, so again, please don't expect it to appear very soon. </p><p>We're getting close to the end, wohoo! Hope you've enjoyed this ride so far :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 13 - "A lie"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hiding his face in his hands, Bilbo tried to will away the thoughts about how, assuming that nothing Gorbag had said was a lie, he could’ve <em>lost his parents</em>. And Thorin, too.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tell you what. Surprises do not seem to end in this fic, even for me as the author xD </p>
<p>Enjoy! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The look on Dís’s face was worth all the money in the world.</p>
<p>“I didn’t believe Ví when he talked about Bilbo’s aim,” she breathed out, “and now it turns out you are <em>all</em> like that.”</p>
<p>Bilbo, Drogo and Primula laughed.</p>
<p>“Children in the Shire play a lot of games which involve throwing stones,” Drogo said, “it seems to improve our aim.”</p>
<p>Prim smiled ominously. “Or maybe we’re just born this way.”</p>
<p>Dís nodded, full seriousness in her expression. “It’s a good thing you’re a peaceful nation. You would take over the world if you weren’t.”</p>
<p>Dís still wasn’t joking and the three just had to laugh again. The Shire, conquering the Middle Earth? What a thought indeed.  </p>
<p>They returned to shooting and it soon turned into a friendly rivalry. Admittedly, Dís was the best shooter among them, but Drogo especially wasn’t far behind her when it came to marksmanship.  The two of them practically lost themselves in the competition, which had been Dís’s goal precisely.</p>
<p>When they had got the message from Gandalf yesterday evening, they all had met up at once and called Gandalf together. The Istari had said that he had found eight people in total and all had been under arrest already. Throughout the night, the Shire police were to question the suspects (and Gandalf too because the White Council would never miss the opportunity to meddle in someone's political business, apparently). When they had woken up, it had been reported that seven out of eight Orcs admitted to taking part in the arson, while the boss of the group, Gorbag Tuzes, remained silent. Gandalf was to try to question him again, and Víli came up with the idea of watching it through the camera in the interrogation room, which the Shire police agreed to.</p>
<p>After that decision had been made, Dís had invited Primula to a shooting range because “she needed to shoot something”, and Bilbo’s sister had taken up the offer, dragging him and Drogo into it. It was how they found themselves here now, enjoying themselves immensely and almost forgetting about what was to come.</p>
<p>From the corner of his eye, Bilbo noticed that Prim stopped shooting. He glanced at her at noticed that she had gone very pale, so he put down his weapon, took off the ear defenders and walked up to her side. She seemed to barely register his approach as she breathed heavily. He took the gun away from her and took off her ear defenders.</p>
<p>“Prim,” he asked, “what’s wrong?”</p>
<p>“I don’t feel well,” she answered faintly.</p>
<p>“Do you need to sit down?”</p>
<p>She nodded. “Yes, please.”</p>
<p>At this point, Drogo and Dís caught up on that something was wrong and joined Bilbo as he was walking Prim to the nearest wall.</p>
<p>“Love, what’s happening?” Drogo asked, taking hold of Primula’s elbow.</p>
<p>“My head’s spinning,” she panted out.</p>
<p>They reached the wall and Prim slumped against it. As she sat down on the floor, Dís, Drogo and Bilbo crouched around her, watching her with worry.</p>
<p>“Are you ill?” Dís asked, “Do you want me to call a doctor?”</p>
<p>Prim shook her head. “No, no, I... I need to calm down,” she said, then took a few heavy breaths. “I just... the thought that I’m going to see the face of the bastard who managed everything really hit me and I... it made me feel something so intense and <em>violent</em>, I don’t...” She swallowed thickly. “Frodo’s been having nightmares almost every night since the attack. He wakes up screaming, calling for us and I... I just really want to... <em>hurt</em> them.”</p>
<p>She hid her face in the crook of Drogo’s neck and Bilbo felt a surge of sympathy for her. In the Shire, peace and quiet were prized while violence was abhorred, and Bilbo understood very well how nauseating the urge to harm felt.</p>
<p>Dís laid a hand on Prim’s forearm, drawing her attention. “You have every right to feel this way,” she said, looking Prim in the eye intently, “No one hurts our children. <em>No one</em>.”</p>
<p>Primula nodded and her gaze hardened with a vicious gleam. “Right. Let’s go do this.” She took a deep breath and got up, which caused her to sway on her feet.</p>
<p>“You really don’t have to be there,” Drogo told her as he put a securing arm around her shoulders, “if you don’t want to.”</p>
<p>“No, I want to,” she replied, “I’m fine.”</p>
<p>Bilbo immediately knew this to be a lie. Prim was only a year younger than him; he had known her all her life. She <em>wasn’t</em> fine – there was something wrong with her, even though she pretended that it wasn’t so. He observed her worriedly as the four of them walked to the conference room but she stubbornly kept up the facade of feeling well.</p>
<p>With a sigh, Bilbo let it go for now.</p>
<p>After following Dís’s lead through various corridors and elevators for fifteen minutes or so, they entered the conference room. As they walked in, everyone was already inside – their whole families except the boys, as well as Balin, Ori and Dwalin.</p>
<p>The air in the room was tense and they didn’t speak much, only looked at the big screen on the wall and waited for the live footage from the interrogation room to start streaming. When it did, they could see Gorbag sitting by the desk form where the camera was situated, in the upper corner. The man was of bulky built, with short blond hair and average facial features. He was neither really attractive nor ugly, and Bilbo was quite sure he wouldn’t spare him a second glance in a crowd.</p>
<p> Soon, Gandalf entered the room, looking as intimidating as Bilbo had never seen him before. He sat down opposite Gorbag, his back to the camera, and was silent for a long moment.</p>
<p>“Gorbag Tuzes,” Gandalf spoke at last, calmly.</p>
<p>“That is my name,” Gorbag replied evenly.</p>
<p> “Have you changed your mind or do you still wish to remain silent?”</p>
<p>“Silence doesn’t bother me.”</p>
<p>Gandalf leaned closer towards the man. “Your friends weren’t so quiet.”</p>
<p>“Indeed?” Gorbag inquired with disinterest.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Gandalf answered, “they all admitted to taking part in the arson of the Buckland Manor. They also confirmed that the attack has something to do with the union between Prince Thorin Durin and Prince Bilbo Baggins.”</p>
<p>Gorbag, for some reason, actually chuckled. “Ah yes, King Bilbo.”</p>
<p>Even via the camera, Bilbo could see Gandalf freeze. “I think you mean <em>Prince</em> Bilbo,” the Istari said carefully.</p>
<p>The man smiled in a way that made Bilbo’s skin crawl. The very same moment, some morbid curiosity struck Bilbo, and he blurted out, “I want to talk to him.”</p>
<p>“<em>What?!</em>” everyone in the room collectively exclaimed.</p>
<p>“I want to have a video call with him,” Bilbo repeated but his wish was only met with everybody staring at him with disbelief. “Please,” he pressed on, “Maybe he’ll tell me some things that he doesn’t want to tell Gandalf.”</p>
<p>It was a really silly argument in favour of the idea, Bilbo was aware, and the expressions of the people in the room pretty much said so without words. After a few more moments of stunned silence, Balin gave in, “I suppose this could be arranged. Let us make a few calls.”</p>
<p>The live footage from the interrogation was stopped, all the needed arrangements were made hastily, and Bilbo did get his wish granted. Everyone moved their chairs away from the camera’s sight and sat down quietly, while Bilbo had a laptop in front of him and waited for the other side to answer the video call.</p>
<p>When Gorbag’s face came into view, Bilbo’s eyes were drawn to the long, thin scar across the man’s throat. Before he could give it any more thought, though, Gorbag greeted him. </p>
<p>“Oh, You Majesty!” the man exclaimed jovially, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”</p>
<p>Bilbo blinked. “Why are you calling me that?”</p>
<p>Gorbag stared right into the camera for a moment, his dark eyes almost making Bilbo shiver, then sighed. “We had great plans for you,” he replied with a hum, “A Shire King, king of grief.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry?”</p>
<p>A small smile appeared on the man’s face and he actually began to <em>sing.</em> “A Shire King, king of grief, who in grief was crowned...” Gorbag’s voice was as beautiful as that of a Sindarin opera singer and Bilbo was <em>very</em> confused as the man sang on, “A Shire King, king of grief, who sits alone beside the other throne... A Shire King, king of grief, whose kingdoms know not peace –”</p>
<p>“<em>What</em> are you talking about?” Bilbo snapped.</p>
<p>The smile immediately disappeared from Gorbag’s face. “I think you’re clever enough to understand what I speak of,” he answered harshly, “Our plans were great indeed but of course that fucking Istari had to meddle. Can’t tell you how the plans changed, though, not when I’m under arrest.”</p>
<p>“We’ll make sure you get a life sentence.”</p>
<p>Gorbag shrugged. “This only means that I and the team won’t be out there... but the others, well.”</p>
<p>Bilbo narrowed his eyes. “Are you threatening me? Because if you are, you’re also threatening the kingdom of the Shire and the kingdom of Erebor, too.”</p>
<p>“Ah yes, the two of you, Erebor and the Shire.” Gorbag sighed. “We really don’t like you together. If I were... Azog, I’d make us retreat. For a time. Even some good old trouble making won’t be easy among you lot,” he grumbled, “It’s hard to blend in, in Erebor or the Shire. You both are extremely suspicious towards strangers, keep to yourselves, are content and extremely loyal to the monarchy. A great match of nations if I ever saw one.”</p>
<p>“I... thank you?”</p>
<p>Gorbag chuckled. “Your Majesty, your manners are admirable.”</p>
<p>“Don’t call me that,” Bilbo growled.</p>
<p>“Why not?” Gorbag asked, “The day of your coronation draws near with every day you live. You <em>will</em> be King, sooner or later.”</p>
<p>“I still have many years until my reign begins,” Bilbo replied with as much conviction as he could muster.</p>
<p>Something akin to a pitying smirk twisted Gorbag’s lips. “As I’ve said, the plans changed, but what they’re now exactly, I can’t tell you. Just...” he leaned towards the camera, staring directly into it, “don’t feel too safe.”</p>
<p>Bilbo suddenly couldn’t take it anymore. “Yes, thank you,” he said quickly, “enjoy rotting in your cell.”</p>
<p>He hung up and stared at the place where Gorbag’s face had been, processing all that he had just heard while heavy silence reigned in the room. Hiding his face in his hands, Bilbo tried to will away the thoughts about how, assuming that nothing Gorbag had said was a lie, he could’ve <em>lost his parents</em>. And Thorin, too.</p>
<p>In simple terms, his world would’ve been in shambles.</p>
<p>No one spoke still, and Bilbo straightened up to look at his husband soon-to-be. Thorin wasn’t likely to even look back at him, he knew, but it didn’t matter now. Bilbo just wanted to look and appreciate that Thorin was <em>here</em>, safe.</p>
<p>To Bilbo’s surprise, Thorin’s sky-blue eyes met his own steadily. Neither of them broke the eye contact for what felt like hours, and Bilbo was lost in those beautiful eyes. A pang of awful longing hit him, which was followed by a tide of other negative emotions, especially fear. “What are we going to do?” he asked, utterly helpless, still looking into Thorin’s eyes.</p>
<p>Instead of an answer, there came Drogo’s worried exclaim, “First, call a doctor!”</p>
<p>Bilbo tore his eyes away from Thorin to see his sister slumped in her chair, looking as if she would faint at any moment, and fear overtook him completely.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A huge shoutout goes to FistPump!, who once again inspired me with their comment! They wrote, <em>Bilbo has great aim I wonder if the rest of the family would be the same level of badass? Like "It's a good thing the Shire is generally peaceful because DAMN they could take over the world if they wanted to"</em> and the scene at the shooting range is a result of this :D </p>
<p>I really apologize if the Orcs situation was handled in a weird way. I just, well. Shortly after I decided to include the plot twist with the attack, I realised that I had no idea how to resolve that issue. I waited for some ideas to come, tried <em>hard</em> to think of something, but nothing really came to my mind. And so, I had Gandalf do all the work behind the scenes and this problem ended the way it did. Gorbag does threaten Bilbo with potential upcoming attacks, which leaves me room for a sequel (but I'm really on the fence whether I'll write it or not). </p>
<p>Now, only one more chapter to go! I'm really excited about it because it's FINALLY time for our boys to pull their heads out of their asses! We'll also find out what's wrong with Primula. See you on Sunday! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 14 - "A little secret"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Thorin hid his face in his hair. “I... didn’t want to hear your rejection,” he admitted.</p><p>“I’d never reject you,” Bilbo replied gently.</p><p>His head snapped up and he looked at Bilbo in shock. “What?” he asked quietly, trying not to let himself hope just yet.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, today is my birthday. The past year of my life has been the shittiest year I've lived through so far and I'm glad to see it gone. I've written a lot of fanfiction, though. A LOT. It's a good positive to cling to. So now, dear readers, let me end this year with giving <em>you</em> a gift: the last chapter of this story. You've been a wonderful audience and I'm grateful for your feedback. The Bagginshield crowd never disappoints :3 </p><p>Let's toast to better days ahead and hope you enjoy! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“We know what’s wrong with her.”</p><p>Drogo stood at his doorstep. There was no worry in his expression and, if Thorin didn’t know the situation, he would say that Drogo looked relaxed and happy. It made little sense, considering how his wife had been rushed to the hospital a few hours ago. Thorin and his family had left the Bagginses there, giving them some privacy, and they were supposed to inform the Durins about the diagnosis as soon as it was known. Thorin guessed it wasn’t anything bad but still would like to understand what was going on, so he looked at Drogo expectantly.</p><p>Drogo just smiled and said, “But I won’t tell you.”</p><p>Thorin frowned, incredulous. “If not you then <em>who</em>?”</p><p>Instead of answering, Drogo looked around the corridor, as if looking for something, then exclaimed, “Ah, Bilbo!”</p><p>Sure enough, Bilbo quickly appeared next to Drogo, and Thorin just stared at the two of them with utter disbelief.</p><p>“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Bilbo asked.</p><p>Thorin didn’t answer, hoping that if he would glare hard enough, Bilbo would go away. Bilbo, of course, refused to take the hint and stood there staring at him right back. Finally, Thorin gave in and opened the door wider. “Make yourself at home,” he ground out.</p><p>As Bilbo walked in, brushing past him, Drogo nodded approvingly and said, “Have fun.”</p><p>Thorin barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “Thanks,” he growled, then closed the door in Drogo’s face.</p><p>After he led Bilbo into the living room, he turned to his “welcome” guest with his arms crossed over his chest and demanded, “So?”</p><p>“So,” Bilbo began, his hands twitching, “Prim was unwell because she experienced severe emotional distress. But! The symptoms she experienced were made much worse due to the fact that... she’s pregnant.” His face broke into a wide, watery smile. “Around six weeks in.”</p><p>Thorin found himself smiling back. “That’s amazing news.”</p><p>Bilbo nodded, his eyes welling up with tears. “Yes, she’s very happy. We all are.”</p><p>They kept smiling at each other, sharing the joy of the news, and Thorin felt happy as if nothing had been wrong at all. As if there had been no problems in between them. The pleasant state lasted but a moment, though, and Thorin quickly stopped smiling. Clearing his throat, he searched for any words to tell Bilbo, yet the heavy silence dragged on and Thorin was still at loss.</p><p>In the end, it was Bilbo who spoke. “I can’t stand this anymore,” he said, “Just... we have to talk. Or, well, at least let me talk.” He took a deep breath and went on, “About what happened in Dale... I’m sorry that I run away like that. I was too shocked.”</p><p>Thorin turned away because he didn’t want to see the look on Bilbo’s face as he answered, “I understand. The true Thomas doesn’t live up to your expectations, I take it?”</p><p>“What? Thorin, is that what you think I feel?” Bilbo stood directly in front of him. “I just don’t deal well with surprises,” he explained, “Hell, I almost fainted when I found out Prim is pregnant! Back in Dale, I had no idea what to do and I fled. I’m truly sorry for that. I tried to apologize but you kept avoiding me.”</p><p>Thorin hid his face in his hair. “I... didn’t want to hear your rejection,” he admitted.</p><p>“I’d never reject you,” Bilbo replied gently.</p><p>His head snapped up and he looked at Bilbo in shock. “What?” he asked quietly, trying not to let himself hope just yet.</p><p>The look on Bilbo’s face was so open, vulnerable and <em>warm</em>. “Even before you told me about being Tom, I... I was already falling for you. And then you turned out to be Tom and... well.” Bilbo chuckled and put a hand on Thorin’s cheek. “You’re perfect,” he breathed out.</p><p>Thorin just stared at him, dumbfounded. It couldn’t be right that Bilbo thought so when it wasn’t the truth, when Bilbo was so much closer to perfection than Thorin could ever be. He took Bilbo’s face in his hands and replied, “Look who’s talking.”</p><p>Bilbo smiled at him with such obvious affection that Thorin just had to kiss him. It was rushed, heated, desperate. Thorin found himself sitting on the couch while Bilbo sat in his lap, straddling his thighs, and he barely registered how they got there. All that mattered was that they kissed and kissed, and <em>kissed</em>, and the painful ache in Thorin’s chest finally started subduing, replaced by the warmth of sheer joy.</p><p>If Thorin shed a tear or two because it had been so long since something in his life had gone <em>right,</em> and even longer since any of his dreams had come true like right now, then it was his little secret.</p><p>It was Bilbo who broke the kiss. “Yavanna, I missed you so much,” he murmured against Thorin’s lips.</p><p>“I missed you too,” Thorim whispered huskily, understanding exactly what Bilbo meant because they <em>knew</em> each other, even more than their few months of texting and barely more than a month of personal acquaintance should allow.</p><p>Maybe they were made for each other, in some inexplicable way. Even now, as Bilbo still straddled his thighs and hid his face in the crook of Thorin’s neck, their bodies seemed to <em>fit</em>, like two matching pieces of the puzzle. They said nothing for some time, as there was no need to, and just basked in the now.  </p><p>“I can’t stop thinking about it,” Bilbo mumbled against Thorin’s skin out of the blue.  </p><p>“About what?” Thorin asked with a frown.</p><p>Bilbo tensed and replied, “Gorbag.”</p><p>Thorin sighed. It wasn’t hard to understand Bilbo’s worry; what the Orc leader had told them a few hours ago was terrifying. The very fact that Orcs <em>aimed</em> to do such things was extremely alarming. It wasn’t likely for them to accomplish even a half of such plans, but still, Bilbo had every reason to be anxious, and Thorin tried comforting him by joking. “Great,” he grumbled, “so you’re thinking another man when I’m kissing you. Am I that bad?”</p><p>Bilbo snickered and swatted his arm. “Stop it,” he answered and straightened up. When he looked Thorin in the eye, a flirty smirk twisted his lips and he purred, “You’re a <em>damn</em> <em>good</em> kisser, dearest.”</p><p> It was all it took for Thorin to kiss him again.</p><p>When they broke apart, panting, Bilbo pressed his forehead against Thorin’s. “I just...” he spoke in a small voice, “whatever are we going to do, Thorin?”</p><p>“Increase security, first and foremost,” he replied easily because he had thought of this already, “then also increase our efforts to infiltrate as many Orc groups as we can. And I’m sure we’ll come up with many more solutions with the Council, ours and the Shire’s.” He nudged his nose against Bilbo’s in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. “In the Mountain, you’re all safe, and we will make the Shire safe as quickly as possible. We will be fine.”</p><p>“Yes,” Bilbo answered simply.</p><p>Thorin started running his hands through Bilbo’s locks to comfort him further and Bilbo almost melted into the touch, hiding his face in the crook of Thorin’s neck again. When Bilbo was no longer tense, Thorin simply embraced him and they stayed like that, basking in the closeness, for Mahal knew how long.</p><p>Thorin broke the comfortable silence only when a thought about the outside world occurred to him. “There will be dinner soon, right?”</p><p>Bilbo wriggled out of Thorin’s arms and looked at the watch on his wrist. “Yes, in thirty five minutes.”</p><p>Thorin kissed Bilbo on the cheek and murmured, “I think I need a shower.”</p><p>“I’m glad you care about personal hygiene,” Bilbo deadpanned.</p><p>Thorin huffed a laugh. “I care about the environment too,” he said in a low voice, laying a trail of kisses down Bilbo’s neck, “We could save water and shower together.”</p><p>Bilbo hummed and titled his head back, allowing Thorin to kiss his neck some more, while he started massaging Thorin’s earlobes with his fingers. He did it so skilfully that Thorin stopped what he was doing and moaned out loud. Bilbo chuckled and carried on with his maddening caress, eliciting more moans from Thorin, until he suddenly stopped. “Not so fast, Your Highness,” he whispered into Thorin’s ear, then immediately got up. “I will see you at dinner.”</p><p>Thorin was <em>very</em> aroused at this point and just couldn’t believe Bilbo was leaving <em>now</em>. “No! Get back here!”</p><p> Bilbo laughed with delight but didn’t stop walking towards the door.</p><p>”Bilbo!”</p><p>“Don’t be late, Thorin!” Bilbo sing-sang from the hallway.</p><p>“Your Highness has no mercy!” Thorin cried.</p><p>Bilbo burst into more lovely laughter but did, in fact, have no mercy – he walked out of Thorin’s rooms, still giggling. When he was gone, Thorin sat on the couch for a bit, trying to process all that had happened and also how genuinely <em>happy</em> he felt.</p><p>He entered the bathroom, smiling like a fool, and took a long, <em>cold</em> shower, during which a funny idea popped up in his mind. After drying himself with a towel, Thorin headed to the bedroom, where his phone was. He unlocked it and sent a message to “William Underhill”.</p><p>
  <em>Hey, Will<br/>Do you want to be my little secret? </em>
</p><p>Thorin went on to dress and, when he was in the middle of buttoning his shirt, his phone pinged. It was “William’s” reply.</p><p>
  <em>31 MAY AT 07:13 PM<br/>Yes, please.</em>
</p><p>Thorin grinned, then answered:</p><p>
  <em>Always so polite. Your impeccable manners are so sexy. </em>
</p><p>“William” sent a message back instantly.</p><p>
  <em>Your bluntness isn’t. </em>
</p><p>Thorin smirked and wrote:</p><p>
  <em>You love it.</em>
</p><p>To this, Bilbo replied:</p><p>
  <em>Dearest, you know me too well.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I just had to make the end so sweet and sappy. I wouldn't be myself if I didn't do that. </p><p>As you can see, this fic has become part one of a series. Part two of the series should appear in around two weeks or so, I'll write a short fic about the royal weddings, the sex and name of Primula and Drogo's baby will also be revealed (gosh that literally makes me giddy with happiness! Frodo will have a sibling aaaaa &lt;3 &lt;3).</p><p>Thank you, again, for your kudos and comments! Writing this story was a joy and you made it even more so! Take care, loves! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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